The  NEW 
ORTHODOXY 


EDWARD   SCRIHM-k   AMKS 


THE  UNIVERSITY 


OF  CALIFORNIA 


LOS  ANGELES 


IN  MEMORY  OF 
MRS.  VIRGINIA  B.  SPORER 


THE  NEW  ORTHODOXY 


THE  UNIVERSITY  OF  CHICAGO  PRESS 
CHICAGO,  ILLINOIS 


THE  BAKER  &  TAYLOR  COMPANY 

HIW  TURK 

THE  CAMBRIDGE  UNIVERSITY  PRESS 

LONDON  AND  EDINBURGH 

THE  MARUZEN-KABUSHIKI-KAISHA 
THE  MISSION  BOOK  COMPANY 


THE 
NEW  ORTHODOXY 


B, 

EDWARD  SCRIBNER  AMES 

Author  of  "  The  Psychology  of  Religious  Experience ,"  "  The  Higher 
Individualism^*  and  "TAc  Divinity  of  Christ" 


THE  UNIVERSITY  OF  CHICAGO  PRESS 
CHICAGO,  ILLINOIS 


COPYRIGHT  1918  BY 

THE  UNIVERSITY  or  CHICAGO 


All  Rights  Reserved 


Published  October  1918 


Composed  and  Printed  By 

The  University  of  Chicago  Press 

Chicago,  Illinois,  U.S.A. 


PREFACE 

At  the  present  time  many  circumstances 
contribute  to  the  demand  for  brief,  con- 
structive statements  of  religion.  Technical 
scholarship  in  numerous  fields  has  furnished 
rich  and  abundant  materials,  but  they  are 
not  easy  of  access  to  the  general  reader. 
In  the  future  these  will  be  more  adequately 
organized  and  vitalized  in  comprehensive 
interpretations.  At  the  moment  men's 
minds  are  impatient  of  elaboration  and 
speculation.  The  war  has  developed  in- 
quiry concerning  these  questions  with 
characteristic  directness  and  poignancy. 
Already  it  has  elicited  remarkable  activity 
in  the  restatement  of  traditional  faiths. 
But  no  earnestness  in  the  reaffirmation  of 
the  conventional  views  can  satisfy  those 
who  are  really  awake  to  the  problems  and 
outlook  of  these  days. 

A  new  world  of  thought  and  ideals  has 
arisen.  Religion  has  its  place  in  this  new 


2042108 


vi  Preface 

order,  not  as  something  aloof,  but  as  some- 
thing organic  and  integral  with  all  other 
vital  interests.  All  who  truly  dwell  in  this 
new  world  of  the  natural  and  the  social  sci- 
ences have  certain  attitudes  and  habits  of 
thought  in  common.  These  constitute  the 
new  orthodoxy  of  method  and  spirit.  It 
differs  from  the  old  orthodoxy  as  chemis- 
try differs  from  alchemy  and  as  empirical, 
reasonable  beliefs  differ  from  the  dogmas 
of  tradition  imposed  by  external  authority. 
This  book  seeks  to  present  in  simple 
terms  a  view  of  religion  consistent  with  the 
mental  habits  of  those  trained  in  the  sci- 
ences, in  the  professions,  and  in  the  expert 
direction  of  practical  affairs.  It  suggests  a 
dynamic,  dramatic  conception  designed  to 
offer  a  means  of  getting  behind  specific 
forms  and  doctrines.  It  aims  to  afford  a 
standpoint  from  which  one  may  realize  the 
process  in  which  ceremonials  and  beliefs 
arise  and  through  which  they  are  modified. 
When  thus  seen  religion  discloses  a  deeper, 
more  intimate,  and  more  appealing  char- 
acter. As  here  conceived  it  is  essentially 


Preface  vii 

the  dramatic  movement  of  the  idealizing, 
outreachmg  life  of  man  in  the  midst  of  his 
practical,  social  tasks.  The  problems  of 
the  religious  sentiments,  of  personality,  of 
sacred  literature,  of  religious  ideals,  and 
of  the  ceremonials  of  worship  are  other 
terms  which  rnigfrt  have  been  employed 
as  the  titles  of  the  successive  chapters. 

E.  S.  A. 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

I.  THE  NEW  ORTHODOXY:  ITS  ATTITUDES        i 

II.  THE  NEW  ORTHODOXY:   ITS  DRAMATIS 

PERSONAE 29 

III.  THE  NEW  ORTHODOXY:    ITS  GROWING 

BIBLE 54 

IV.  THE  NEW  ORTHODOXY:  ITS  CHANGING 

GOAL 83 

V.  THE  NEW  ORTHODOXY:  ITS  NEW  DRAMA    107 


CHAPTER  I 

THE  NEW  ORTHODOXY:   ITS 
ATTITUDES 

Thoughtful  people  are  aware  that  the 
opening  years  of  this  twentieth  century 
have  already  denned  one  of  the  most  im- 
portant epochs  in  history.  The  century 
was  ushered  in  with  a  consciousness  of 
progress  and  of  new  developments  such  as 
no  other  century  has  known.  Everywhere 
were  recounted  the  inventions,  the  discov- 
eries, the  revolutionary  achievements  in 
democracy,  in  education,  in  the  arts,  in  in- 
dustry, and  in  religion.  What  was  then 
clear  to  a  few  is  now  becoming  familiar  to 
the  vast  multitudes  of  laborers  and  peas- 
ants in  every  land.  The  great  war  has  al- 
ready written  in  blood  and  tears  the  end  of 
the  old  and  the  beginning  of  the  new.  The 
spectacular  transformation  of  war  itself  by 
its  own  instruments  of  death  is  a  tragic 
symbol  of  the  vast  change  which  has  come 


2  The  New  Orthodoxy 

over  human  affairs.  Trenches  and  gas,  sub- 
marines and  airplanes,  are  no  more  won- 
derful or  significant  than  democracy  in 
China  and  the  dethronement  of  the  Czar 
in  Russia  and  the  rising  tide  of  power 
among  the  hitherto  subject  masses  of  all 
civilized  countries.  The  war  has  become 
an  abyss  of  fire  and  death  between  the  past 
and  the  future.  It  has  widened  into  four 
horrible  years.  Many  think  it  will  con- 
tinue from  three  to  six  years  more.  To 
those  who  look  back  from  the  year  1920  or 
1925  across  all  this  wreckage  and  waste, 
how  remote  and  diminished  the  old  order 
will  seem !  The  glory  of  its  empires  and  the 
spectacle  of  its  royal  courts  will  blend  into 
the  same  unreturning  past  which  has  en- 
tombed giants  and  fairies  and  armored 
knights.  Its  authority  will  disappear. 
Nothing  of  that  world  will  command  the 
allegiance  of  men  simply  because  it  was 
a  part  of  that  age.  Only  those  things 
will  be  perpetuated  which  are  renewed 
in  the  living  experience  of  these  coming 
days. 


Its  Attitudes  3 

For  this  new  time,  already  begun  for 
those  who  are  truly  at  home  in  the  twen- 
tieth century  of  the  spiritual  calendar  of 
mankind,  how  shall  the  picture  of  man's 
life  and  destiny  be  drawn?  They  have 
thrown  off  the  rule  of  superstition  and  the 
authority  of  kings  and  priests.  They  do 
not  believe  in  miracles.  Their  world  is  not 
divided  by  the  clouds  into  human  and 
divine,  nor  by  forms  of  dress  or  types  of 
architecture  into  sacred  and  secular.  Nor 
are  they  content  with  mere  denial.  Icono- 
clasm  is  not  the  mark  of  really  modern 
men.  They  seek  to  build,  to  construct,  to 
create.  In  place  of  dungeons  of  fear,  irra- 
tional creeds,  and  magical  rituals  they  are 
not  content  to  leave  only  barrenness  and 
doubt.  New  hopes,  better  doctrines,  and 
more  satisfying  symbols  are  springing  up 
out  of  the  idealism  and  faith  of  the  emanci- 
pated mind  and  heart.  As  in  the  sixteenth 
century  the  small  earth-centered  universe 
gave  way  to  a  cosmos  of  stellar  spaces  of 
incalculable  magnitude,  and  as  the  little 
six  thousand  years  of  mundane  existence 


4  The  New  Orthodoxy 

expanded  into  the  hundreds  of  thousands 
of  years  for  the  setting  of  the  human 
drama,  so  the  simple  picture  of  Bunyan's 
Pilgrim's  Progress  has  dissolved  into  the 
gigantic  struggle  of  hundreds  of  millions 
of  men  over  the  whole  earth  to  realize  an 
actual  and  visible  society  of  righteousness, 
justice,  and  love.  The  cravings  of  the 
souls  of  men  are  no  longer  to  be  satisfied 
with  the  dream  of  individual  salvation  after 
this  life  in  a  walled  town  with  jeweled  gates 
and  flashing  pavements,  outside  of  which 
in  unending  night  and  pain  the  infinitely 
greater  number  of  their  fellow-men  forever 
wander,  tortured  and  damned. 

What  religious  conceptions  are  adequate 
to  the  dawning  day  of  our  larger  mental 
and  moral  life  ?  Dare  we  hope  that  these 
shall  be  found  in  the  revival  of  some  mys- 
terious cult  of  the  prescientific  childhood  of 
the  race — in  theosophy  or  some  oriental 
mystery-religion?  Is  it  imaginable  that 
we  are  to  be  content  with  some  pretentious 
propaganda  of  healing  which  begins  by 
renouncing  the  very  foundations  of  science 


7/5  Attitudes  5 

and  the  common-sense  reality  of  practical 
experience  ?  The  refusal  of  minds  of  first 
rank  to  accept  these  religions  cannot  be 
offset  by  any  number  of  devotees  gathered 
from  those  who  are  not  aware  of  the  prog- 
ress which  has  been  made  in  the  physical 
and  social  sciences.  These  movements  do 
undoubtedly  answer  certain  real  needs  of 
human  nature  and  are  obviously  conducted 
by  shrewd  administrators  and  propagan- 
dists, but  to  suppose  that  they  represent 
an  adequate  provision  for  the  many-sided 
and  profound  claims  of  the  human  spirit  is 
an  illusion  which  time  will  expose. 

There  is  more  reasonable  hope  that  the 
great  historic  development  of  religion  rep- 
resented by  Christianity  is  destined  to 
come  to  a  new  birth  of  power.  This  can- 
not be  expected  to  occur,  however,  through 
a  mere  emotional  revival  of  its  traditional 
forms  and  doctrines.  These  have  outlived 
the  order  of  society  in  which  they  ap- 
peared and  are  already  transcended  by 
the  leaders  of  religious  thought  still  working 
within  their  domains.  Such  mighty  social 


6  The  New  Orthodoxy 

structures  do  not  pass  away  at  a  stroke.  It 
required  centuries  to  build  them,  and  they 
linger  on  in  the  world  just  as  monarchies 
persist  long  after  democracy  has  become 
the  accepted  political  ideal  of  the  world. 
Christianity  has  lived  through  three  marked 
stages  and,  it  is  believed  by  many,  is  now 
entering  upon  a  fourth.  The  first  was  its 
earliest  form,  in  which  it  was  a  tremen- 
dously vital  impulse  to  a  higher,  freer 
moral  life  among  informal  intimate  groups, 
having  their  common  bond  in  allegiance  to 
the  personality  and  inspiring  message  of 
Jesus  of  Nazareth.  That  period  is  directly 
reflected  in  our  New  Testament.  Upon  its 
pages  are  the  fresh  imprints  of  the  vibrant, 
pulsing  spirit  of  the  Master.  But  there  is 
little  organization.  It  has  been  impossible 
for  the  most  searching  scholarship  to  find 
there  a  model  for  the  conduct  of  the  mod- 
ern church.  No  fixed  ritual  is  established. 
No  clear  and  uniform  body  of  doctrine  is 
presented.  No  provision  can  be  traced 
there  for  economic  justice  and  social 
righteousness  as  needed  by  the  twentieth 


Its  Attitudes  7 

century.  But  the  moral  aspiration  and 
insight  are  there.  The  clear,  commanding 
spiritual  vision  of  Jesus  shines  through  it  as 
the  rays  of  the  rising  sun  illumine  and 
warm  the  world.  That  record  will  there- 
fore remain  a  source  of  inspiration  to  the 
end  of  time. 

The  second  stage  of  Christianity  was 
that  known  as  Catholicism.  It  developed 
by  the  gradual  extension  of  the  faith  to 
great  numbers  of  communities  throughout 
the  Roman  Empire  and  among  barbarian 
tribes.  Contact  with  Greek  philosophy 
was  also  a  great  factor  in  formulating  the 
conceptions  of  the  early  church.  When 
Christianity  permeated  the  empire  it  was 
inevitable  that  it  should  be  affected  by 
the  Latin  genius  for  organization  and  by 
the  Greek  power  of  reflective  thought.  The 
ecclesiastical  institution  known  to  us  as  the 
Roman  Catholic  church  may  truly  be  re- 
garded as  deriving  its  impetus  from  the  gos- 
pels, its  form  from  the  Roman  Empire,  and 
its  formulations  of  doctrine  from  Greek 
philosophy.  The  official  authority  which 


8  The  New  Orthodoxy 

characterizes  it  is  inevitably  of  the  quality 
of  the  system  on  which  it  was  patterned. 
This  type  of  Christianity  was  arrested  in 
its  progress  by  the  Protestant  Reformation 
of  the  sixteenth  century.  Its  fate  is  sealed 
with  the  death  knell  of  monarchy  and 
bureaucracy  in  all  social  relations — in  the 
family,  in  education,  and  in  industry.  It 
has  produced  many  beautiful  souls.  It  has 
adorned  our  human  world  with  marvelous 
cathedrals  and  pageants.  It  has  lifted  the 
imagination  of  millions  from  sordid  and 
transient  things  to  pure  and  lofty  visions 
of  faith.  But  it  is  not  the  form  of  religion 
for  the  modern  man. 

What  then  of  Protestantism?  It  has 
now  had  four  centuries  of  history.  The 
celebration  of  the  four  hundredth  anniver- 
sary of  Luther's  break  with  the  Catholic 
church  is  being  widely  observed.  He  in- 
troduced great  reforms  which  continue  to 
exert  a  powerful  influence.  He  gave  the 
Bible  to  the  people  and  made  Christianity 
the  religion  of  a  book  as  it  had  never  been 
before.  He  struck  at  the  sharp  separation 


Its  Attitudes  g 

of  the  sacred  and  the  secular  by  opposing 
the  celibacy  of  the  clergy,  by  recognizing 
the  state  as  an  agency  of  God,  and  by  dig- 
nifying common  labor  as  having  religious 
value.  But  the  movement  which  he  in- 
augurated became  dogmatic  and  fixed  and 
has  not  fulfilled  his  hopes.  In  Calvinism 
the  doctrinal  interest  predominated  and 
gave  rise  to  creeds  and  confessions  of  faith 
which  stand  in  the  background  of  most  of 
the  evangelical  churches  today.  Puritan- 
ism became  austere  and  antagonistic  to 
many  natural  and  vital  interests.  It  de- 
veloped strength  of  conscience  and  deter- 
mination of  will,  but  lost  breadth  and  the 
social  graces  and  appreciation  of  the  fine 
arts.  Under  all  its  differences  Protestant- 
ism retained  certain  elements  of  Catholi- 
cism. It  distrusted  human  nature;  it 
emphasized  the  sacraments  as  essential 
means  of  grace;  it  clung  to  external  author- 
ity, to  the  doctrines  of  the  supernatural, 
and  to  a  miraculous  conversion  of  the 
natural  human  being  in  order  to  make 
him  truly  religious. 


io  The  New  Orthodoxy 

It  is  not  impossible  that  future  historians 
will  regard  Protestantism  as  coming  to  its 
close  with  the  end  of  the  nineteenth  cen- 
tury as  a  vital,  ascending  type  of  religion. 
In  that  century  several  of  the  most  charac- 
teristic principles  of  Protestantism  were 
undermined  by  a  larger  knowledge  of  his- 
tory and  science.  Protestantism  was  in- 
dividualistic; the  new  order  is  social.  It 
assumed  the  infallibility  of  the  Bible,  and 
that  is  no  longer  tenable.  It  exalted  au- 
thority, and  now  there  is  on  legitimate 
authority  except  that  of  experience.  It 
denied  that  man  is  naturally  religious, 
while  it  is  commonly  accepted  today  that 
man  is  incurably  religious.  We  may  well 
believe  therefore  that  Christianity  is  enter- 
ing upon  a  fourth  great  epoch,  which  has 
already  been  called  by  various  names.  It 
is  referred  to  as  the  religion  of  the  spirit,  as 
social  Christianity,  and  as  the  religion  of 
democracy. 

There  is  real  need  at  the  present  time  for 
statements  of  this  latest  form  of  Christian- 
ity created  by  the  profound  influences 


Its  Attitudes  ii 

working  through  many  agencies  toward  a 
richer  life  for  all  classes  of  men.  What  is 
this  religion  of  the  twentieth  century? 
How  shall  we  set  forth  the  religious  life  as 
it  appears  in  the  light  of  the  discoveries  of 
the  historians  of  religion,  biblical  students, 
natural  scientists,  and  social  psychologists  ? 
Let  us  think  of  ourselves  as  perfectly  free 
souls,  unawed  by  any  authority  over  us  or 
by  any  superstition  within  us,  yet  reverent 
toward  the  things  which  experience  has 
taught  us  and  eagerly  in  quest  of  clearer 
perceptions  of  the  ideal  possibilities  of  life. 
How  does  the  religious  life  appear  ?  How 
shall  we  understand  its  attitudes,  its  dra- 
matis personae,  its  growing  Bible,  its 
changing  goal,  and  its  new  drama  of  the 
spiritual  life?  Some  persons  have  diffi- 
culty in  thinking  of  the  Christian  life  in 
this  way,  but  no  apologies  are  necessary  for 
identifying  it  with  the  religious  life  at  its 
best.  Indeed,  the  Christian  life  may  be 
regarded  as  just  life  itself  at  its  best.  It  is 
not  in  exclusive  opposition  to  plain  good- 
ness or  to  life  as  symbolized  by  Plato,  or 


12  The  New  Orthodoxy 

Buddha,  or  Confucius.  In  our  culture  the 
highest  religion  is  Christianity.  It  stands 
for  the  best  in  our  civilization.  Nothing 
is  too  good  to  be  called  Christian,  and  it  is 
difficult  to  conceive  of  any  good  thing 
appearing  in  our  experience  which  is  fun- 
damentally alien  to  the  Christian  way  of 
life. 

The  attitudes  treated  here  are  those 
toward  life  as  it  unfolds  naturally  in  simple 
human  relations,  those  involved  in  our 
social  complexes,  and  those  which  relate 
to  our  efforts  to  contribute  to  the  fulness 
and  beauty  of  the  life  of  the  world.  These 
may  be  called  the  attitudes  of  reverence,  of 
love,  and  of  faith.  These  seem  to  be  de- 
manded by  life  as  we  experience  it  in  the 
light  of  science  and  of  the  most  ideal  attain- 
ments. And  these  qualities  are  illustrated 
in  the  life  of  Jesus.  The  Christianity  of 
our  time  begins  with  its  own  direct  sense 
of  values,  finds  them  in  life  as  it  is,  and 
estimates  them  on  their  own  merit.  When , 
it  discovers  that  Jesus  viewed  the  world  in 
the  same  way,  it  sees  in  him  a  companion- 


7/5  Attitudes  13 

able  spirit  and  a  helper  in  the  task  of  noble 
living. 

First,  then,  reverence  for  life.  We  have 
come  to  have  profound  respect  for  the  laws 
of  nature,  for  the  way  she  works,  and  for 
the  possibility  of  co-operating  with  her. 
It  is  the  scientific  habit  of  mind  to  sit  down 
quietly  and  observe  the  facts,  to  view 
patiently  the  processes  in  the  growth  of 
plants  and  animals  and  in  the  development 
of  society  in  order  to  understand  them  and 
control  them.  Nothing  is  allowed  to  come 
between  the  scientist  and  the  facts.  Jesus 
took  the  same  unprejudiced,  impartial  atti- 
tude when  he  said  to  his  disciples,  "Ye  shall 
know  the  truth  and  the  truth  shall  make 
you  free."  The  order  and  connection  of 
things  in  the  inner  life  were  to  him  no  less 
real  than  the  relations  which  exist  in  the 
outer  world.  "Do  men  gather  grapes  of 
thorns  or  figs  of  thistles?  A  good  tree 
cannot  bring  forth  evil  fruit,  neither  can  a 
.corrupt  tree  bring  forth  good  fruit. "  It 
was  this  appeal  to  lif  e  itself  which  enabled 
the  people  to  understand  him  so  readily 


14  The  New  Orthodoxy 

and  to  appreciate  the  moral  lessons  which 
he  drew  from  their  common  occupations 
and  daily  experiences.  He  did  not  shrink 
from  life.  He  came  eating  and  drinking 
and  entered  into  the  natural  and  simple  in- 
terests of  his  townsmen  and  friends.  His 
moral  precepts  were  largely  direct  observa- 
tions of  what  he  saw  going  on  about  him. 
"  Judge  not  that  ye  be  not  judged,  for  with 
what  judgment  ye  judge,  ye  shall  be 
judged,  and  with  what  measure  ye  mete,  it 
shall  be  measured  to  you  again."  In  those 
words  he  was  simply  telling  what  he  had 
observed  and  what  any  of  us  may  observe 
every  day.  It  was  the  same  when  he  said, 
"Ask  and  it  shall  be  given  you;  seek  and 
ye  shall  find;  knock  and  it  shall  be  opened 
unto  you."  He  probably  had  in  mind 
some  undaunted  souls  who  persistently 
kept  after  worthy  objects  and  finally  ob- 
tained them  against  heavy  odds.  Jesus 
appears  very  near  to  us  because  he  is  so 
real  and  straightforward  in  his  estimates. 
He  has  precisely  the  attitude  of  a  modern 
man  who  looks  over  the  pictures  of  life  in 


Its  Attitudes  15 

the  newspapers  or  at  the  movies  and  rec- 
ognizes the  folly  of  the  fool  and  the  wisdom 
of  the  wise.  Generosity  begets  generosity, 
hardness  invites  hardness.  They  that  take 
the  sword  shall  perish  by  the  sword. 

He  may  be  said  to  have  confidence  in  his 
teaching  just  because  so  little  of  it  is  his 
own  in  any  exclusive  sense.  The  message 
which  he  gives  is  in  no  sense  private.  It 
is  the  declaration  of  things  which  are  right 
at  hand  but  which  are  overlooked  and 
neglected.  In  this  sense  there  is  a  certain 
identity  between  the  teaching  of  Jesus  and 
what  is  called  paganism.  The  authority 
for  what  he  teaches  is  found  in  the  nature 
of  the  experience  itself  and  may  be  verified 
by  anyone.  Even  paganism  in  the  sense 
of  the  joy  of  life,  the  delight  in  friendship 
and  in  nature  and  in  humor  and  in  the  free 
play  of  the  imagination,  is  not  wanting. 
The  great  parables — the  Prodigal  Son,  the 
Good  Samaritan,  the  Wise  and  Foolish 
Virgins,  the  Sower  and  the  Husbandman — 
are  straight  out  of  life  and  have  traveled 
around  the  world  for  two  thousand  years 


1 6  The  New  Orthodoxy 

as  true  counterparts  of  actual  conditions, 
in  the  lives  of  the  people.  It  did  not  re- 
quire a  special  revelation  to  make  them 
true.  They  would  have  been  just  as  true 
from  any  other  lips.  Because  he  saw 
people  as  they  are,  with  their  ideals  as  well 
as  their  sins,  and  pictured  them  to  them- 
selves with  such  fidelity,  he  has  won  their 
hearts  and  inspired  their  wills. 

Religion  is  for  him  the  maintenance  of 
this  attitude  of  respect  for  life.  The  divine 
order  is  not  different  in  principle  from  that 
which  we  constantly  observe.  God  is  like 
a  good  shepherd  seeking  his  lost  sheep.  He 
is  like  the  father  receiving  back  his  prodigal 
son.  The  analogies  of  seedtime  and  har- 
vest hold  in  the  moral  realm.  Whoever, 
then,  in  our  day  has  this  reverence  for  life, 
respects  its  simple  principles  of  industry,  of 
generosity,  of  persistence,  and  of  fidelity, 
possesses  in  this  respect  the  Christian  atti- 
tude and  is  to  that  extent  and  by  that  very 
fact  a  Christian.  The  modern  man  gains 
a  new  attachment  for  Jesus  in  this  dis- 
covery, for  there  is  here  no  longer  the  sense 


Its  Attitudes  17 

of  something  artificial  and  arbitrary,  but  a 
common  human  response  to  the  great  spec- 
tacle of  the  world.  In  all  that  wonderful 
panorama  some  things  appear  better  than 
others.  The  differences  are  as  clear  to  the 
plain  man  as  to  the  prophet  when  once  they 
are  pointed  out.  It  is  the  function  of  the 
prophet  to  call  attention  to  them,  and  it  is 
the  measure  of  his  greatness  that  he  is  able 
to  do  so  in  such  vivid  pictures  that  men 
remember  and  have  their  wills  stirred  to 
act  accordingly. 

The  great  moral  distinctions  between 
good  and  bad,  right  and  wrong,  have  arisen 
out  of  the  long  and  tortuous  experience  of 
the  race.  Like  language  and  art  they  have 
been  fashioned  first  in  the  give  and  take  of 
use  and  wont.  Later  they  have  been  for- 
mulated and  codified  by  prophets  and 
social  leaders.  The  conviction  which  a 
moral  leader  awakens  is  not  due  to  what 
he  brings  with  him  so  much  as  to  the  dis- 
closures he  makes  concerning  the  habits 
which  men  already  employ.  He  deals  in 
typical  cases:  "A  certain  man  had  two 


1 8  The  New  Orthodoxy 

sons";  or  "There  was  a  certain  rich  man 
which  had  a  steward";  or  "What  man  of 
you  having  an  hundred  sheep,  if  he  lose  one 
.  .  .  ."  In  the  time  and  country  of  Jesus 
every  man  worth  taking  into  account  had 
at  least  two  sons,  every  rich  man  naturally 
had  a  steward,  and  every  farmer  of  any 
significance  had  at  least  a  hundred  sheep. 
The  stories  therefore  had  point  and  could 
be  verified  with  little  difficulty.  They  de- 
rived their  significance  not  from  the  man 
who  told  them  but  from  life  itself.  His 
glory  was  in  his  clear  and  illuminating  in- 
sight which  became  so  revealing  and  so 
convincing  the  moment  men  compared 
what  he  said  with  what  they  saw  all  about 
them.  He  is  vital  for  us  now  because  he 
lodged  the  authority  of  his  word  in  what  he 
saw,  in  what  all  experienced,  and  in  the  dis- 
tinctions which  had  been  made  before  him 
but  which  needed  reinforcement  through 
such  an  energizing  and  convincing  soul  as 
his.  He  accepted  the  Ten  Command- 
ments, but  he  knew  they  were  not  all  of 
equal  importance  and  he  did  not  hesitate 


Its  Attitudes  ig 

even  in  the  presence  of  the  formal  teachers 
of  the  Law  to  assert  which  was  the  greatest 
and  to  put  another  beside  it  as  of  equal 
value.  The  attitude  of  Christ  toward  life 
was  then  one  of  reverence  for  its  moral 
distinctions  and  its  ethical  values.  We 
share  that  attitude  with  him.  We  also 
look  to  life  for  its  meaning  and  for  direc- 
tion, and  because  we  agree  in  this  reverence 
for  life  we  are  to  this  extent  Christian. 

The  second  conspicuous  attitude  of  the 
Christian  life  which  I  mention  is  love,  espe- 
cially love  of  our  fellow-men.  We  are  hav- 
ing a  great  awakening  in  recent  years  with 
reference  to  social  justice.  This  is  the 
phrase  which  we  have  "adopted  to  express 
the  development  in  institutions,  and  par- 
ticularly in  the  state,  of  the  attitude  of  con- 
sideration for  our  fellow-men.  That  is  one 
reason  the  present  war  is  more  tragic  to  us 
than  war  has  ever  been  before.  Just  in 
proportion  as  men  had  begun  to  see  the 
possibility  of  enhancing  human  nature  by 
culture  and  training,  by  favorable  environ- 
ment and  nutrition,  the  whole  process 


2o  The  New  Orthodoxy 

seems  to  be  arrested  by  the  most  appalling 
waste  of  men  known  to  history.  Perhaps 
the  tragedy  will  make  so  profound  an  im- 
pression that  the  memory  of  it  will  be 
sufficient  to  prevent  its  recurrence.  But 
there  is  something  hopeful  in  the  very 
despair  we  feel.  If  we  gloried  in  it,  or 
sought  it  as  men  used  to  do  for  its  excite- 
ment and  its  plunder,  then  everything 
would  be  in  doubt;  but  so  long  as  men  feel 
that  they  are  fighting  for  their  fellows  and 
for  their  children,  and  even  for  the  children 
of  the  enemy,  there  is  some  hope.  Men  do 
not  wait  to  find  that  this  love  of  their  fel- 
lows is  a  supreme  ideal  of  Christianity 
before  they  follow  it.  The  impressive  fact 
is  that  they  believe  themselves  to  have 
found  a  principle  which  rests  directly  upon 
experience,  one  which  carries  its  own  justi- 
fication in  itself.  And  they  are  right.  But 
it  is  identical  with  the  feeling  which  Jesus 
had  for  his  fellows  just  the  same. 

The  business  man  adopts  better  methods 
for  the  protection  of  his  employees.  He 
may  have  mixed  motives  about  it,  but  one 


7/5  Attitudes  21 

very  real  factor  is  his  sense  of  friendliness 
for  those  who  work  with  him  and  who  are 
therefore  neighbors  to  him.  At  least  one 
of  the  discoveries  made  by  agencies  for  the 
promotion  of  the  welfare  of  employees  is 
the  genuine  human  interest  taken  by  the 
employers  when  they  understand  the  facts. 
Their  attention  has  too  often  been  cen- 
tered upon  other  things  in  the  conduct  of 
business,  but  when  they  come  into  closer 
human  relations  with  the  men  they  are 
more  and  more  'ready  to  improve  working 
conditions.  Neighborliness  is  in  reality 
dependent  upon  something  more  than 
physical  proximity,  as  we  who  dwell  in  city 
apartments  well  understand.  It  is  more 
than  a  formal  connection  with  the  machin- 
ery and  the  pay-roll  of  a  firm.  It  is  a 
question  of  fellow-feeling,  of  sympathetic 
imagination.  It  is  a  sense  of  having  our 
interests  intimately  bound  up  together.  It 
is  a  realization  of  comradeship  in  a  common 
cause.  Neighbors  are  not  really  neighbors 
until  their  children  play  and  quarrel  to- 
gether, or  until  they  confer  about  paving 


22  The  New  Orthodoxy 

the  alley,  or  until  they  are  visited  by  com- 
mon bereavement,  or  their  sons  go  to  war. 
When  these  things  happen,  then  love  arises 
between  them;  that  is,  good  feeling,  kindli- 
ness, mutual  concern,  spring  up  naturally 
and  of  course.  The  great  improvements 
in  social  adjustments  are  now  being 
brought  about  by  using  this  simple  fact. 
In  order  to  preserve  our  cities  from  im- 
pending isolation  of  individuals  in  a  great 
maze  of  inhuman  solid  pavements  and 
brick  walls,  we  have  created  parks  and 
playgrounds  where  the  natural  impulses  to 
play  and  to  social  contact  may  find  satis- 
faction. 

Nothing  has  helped  more  to  create  the 
religious  virtue  of  love  to  our  fellow-men 
in  the  cities  than  these  places  of  associa- 
tion. Formerly  we  left  the  development 
of  this  Christian  quality  too  much  to  the 
saloon  and  the  public  dance  hall !  It  is  one 
of  the  most  significant  forward  steps  in  our 
society  that  we  have  begun  to  find  out  how 
to  create  the  normal  and  natural  conditions 
out  of  which  the  highest  moral  qualities  can 


7/5  Attitudes  23 

most  successfully  be  produced.  We  have 
always  believed,  theoretically  at  least,  that 
men  should  love  each  other,  and  we  knew 
that  under  certain  conditions  they  always 
did  love  each  other,  but  we  have  only  re- 
cently put  these  two  things  together  and 
begun  to  create  vast  plans  for  the  condi- 
tions under  which  a  wider  and  firmer  affec- 
tion may  spontaneously  develop.  Settle- 
ment workers,  friendly  visitors  for  the 
united  charities,  comrades  in  barracks  and 
in  the  trenches,  as  well  as  classmates  in  col- 
lege and  members  of  the  family,  have  found 
that  the  old  injunction  to  love  your  neigh- 
bor means,  when  translated  into  experi- 
ence, to  live  together,  to  share  hardship 
and  pleasure,  storms  and  sunshine,  tears 
and  laughter,  poverty  and  prosperity.  It 
has  been  said  that  all  face-to-face  groups 
are  naturally  Christian.  This  conviction 
impels  us  to  the  conclusion,  therefore,  that 
what  is  needed  is  to  bring  the  world  face 
to  face,  and  that  is  being  accomplished  in 
our  time  in  unexpected  ways.  Travel  and 
communication  and  the  movies  and  other 


24  The  New  Orthodoxy 

devices  enable  even  the  plainest  citizen  to 
enter  into  intimate  understanding  with 
classes  and  conditions  which  have  hitherto 
been  inaccessible  to  him.  It  is  because 
this  attitude  of  love  which  is  central  in  the 
Christian  conception  is  spontaneous  and 
inevitable  in  life  itself  that  it  is  not  to  be 
regarded  as  a  fantastic  dream  that  the 
world  may  continue  increasingly  to  find 
itself  and  to  call  itself  Christian. 

The  third  attitude  of  the  religious  life  is 
faith.  Faith  is  that  quality  by  which 
pioneers  like  Abraham  and  the  Klondike 
adventurers  go  forth  into  new  countries. 
It  was  the  attitude  of  Columbus.  It  is  the 
forward-striving,  hopeful,  expectant  qual- 
ity. To  have  faith  means  to  be  willing  to 
take  some  risk  for  a  cause.  It  is  of  the 
essence  of  business  enterprise  and  of  the 
creative  spirit  in  science  and  in  art.  Reli- 
gious faith  means  to  have  that  feeling 
about  life  as  a  whole.  No  one  is  able  to 
prove  conclusively  that  human  progress 
will  continue,  but  no  man  can  get  the  most 
out  of  life  who  refuses  to  believe  in  progress 


Its  Attitudes  25 

and  in  the  possibility  of  improving  the 
world.  In  spite  of  all  the  lions  in  the  way 
we  must  go  on.  In  spite  of  human  frailties 
and  weaknesses,  in  spite  of  follies  and  irra- 
tionalities, in  spite  of  selfishness  and  greed, 
in  spite  of  false  ideals  and  paralyzing  in- 
difference, we  must  go  on  with  our  task 
whether  it  is  our  business,  our  science,  our 
politics,  or  our  religion.  They  are  all  of  a 
piece  in  this  respect.  Everywhere  we  work 
against  difficulties  and  in  the  face  of  dis- 
couragements which  would  be  heartbreak- 
ing if  we  thought  only  of  them.  But 
everywhere  we  keep  hoping  and  fighting 
and  believing  that  improvement  is  to  be 
made.  When  we  give  up  that  faith,  we  are 
done  with  life,  or  at  least  with  that  par- 
ticular part  of  it  concerning  which  we  have 
lost  faith. 

This,  too,  is  a  natural  attitude  which  has 
come  to  have  a  new  appraisement.  The 
cults  of  cheerfulness  which  have  sprung  up 
on  every  hand  witness  to  the  response 
which  this  quality  gains  wherever  it  ap- 
pears. That  is  one  great  factor  in  the 


26  The  New  Orthodoxy 

irresistible  charm  of  youth.  In  its  normal 
state  it  is  buoyant,  believing,  and  un- 
daunted. Here  again  it  has  been  dis- 
covered that  this  spiritual  quality  of  life 
has  relation  to  practical  and  to  physical 
conditions.  As  between  a  healthy  man 
and  an  invalid,  the  healthy  man  will 
usually  have  the  most  faith  and  courage 
for  the  future.  Therefore  every  means  of 
banishing  disease  from  the  world  may  be 
regarded  as  a  means  of  increasing  our  faith. 
Poverty  and  ignorance  also  depress  and 
tend  to  break  the  spirit  and  contract  the 
soul.  Remunerative  occupation  and  bet- 
ter education  of  the  mind  therefore  become 
factors  in  the  spiritual  life. 

But  it  is  also  true  that  faith  is  conta- 
gious. You  must  know  that  from  the  way 
in  which  salesmen  and  promoters  commu- 
nicate to  you  their  enthusiasm  for  their 
goods  and  stocks.  It  is  true,  too,  with  ref- 
ference  to  the  ideal  things  of  religion.  It 
is  heartening  to  meet  great  souls  like  Jesus 
and  Paul  and  Luther  and  Bishop  Brooks, 
who  are  resilient  and  full  of  faith  in  the 


Its  Attitudes  27 

progress  of  the  kingdom  of  love  in  the 
world.  They  look  over  the  long  distances 
which  the  race  has  traveled  and  are  able  to 
see  savagery  pass  away  and  barbarism  dis- 
appear, the  old  nomadic  life  of  Israel  give 
place  to  the  kingdom,  the  old  superstitions 
of  magic  and  sorcery  vanish  before  increas- 
ing intelligence,  old  cruelty  surrender  to 
kindliness,  and  the  littleness  of  broken  and 
scattered  societies  grow  into  the  beauty 
and  power  of  ordered  states  and  empires. 
The  Christian  attitude  of  faith  is  that  the 
world  has  immense  possibilities  and  that 
these  may  be  realized  through  the  industry, 
intelligence,  and  good- will  of  men  working 
in  harmony  with  the  highest  knowledge 
and  deepest  convictions  they  possess. 

These,  then,  are  the  attitudes  of  the  reli- 
gious life.  Reverence  for  life  and  for  the 
moral  distinctions  which  commend  them- 
selves to  the  experience  of  the  race;  love 
for  our  fellow-men  as  the  natural  attitude 
of  good-will  and  comradeship  which  arises 
wherever  men  really  know  and  understand 
each  other;  and  the  forward-moving  action 


28  The  New  Orthodoxy 

of  life  in  the  quest  for  better  things  than 
have  yet  been  achieved — these  are  the  atti- 
tudes of  the  Christian  life,  and  they  are 
the  attitudes  of  life  itself  at  its  best.  Is  it 
too  much  to  hope  that  one  day  this  identity 
will  be  fully  realized  and  that  then  it  will 
be  seen  that  wherever  reverence  and  love 
and  faith  abound  there  also  the  Christian 
life  has  come  to  its  own?  It  is  in  this 
spirit  that  men  are  gaining  a  new  appre- 
ciation of  religion  and  a  new  and  truer 
vision  of  Jesus  Christ.  Instead  of  being 
dwarfed  by  the  world's  realization  that  his 
religion  is  the  religion  of  life  at  its  best, 
that  discovery  exalts  him  into  a  more 
intimate  and  persuasive  leadership  which 
invites  new  enthusiasm  and  devotion. 


CHAPTER  II 

THE  NEW  ORTHODOXY:    ITS 
DRAMATIS  PERSONAE 

Religion  as  we  know  it  in  our  society  is 
concerned  with  persons.  This  is  a  distin- 
guishing feature.  In  the  earlier  stages  of 
man's  groping  life  he  attached  more  im- 
portance to  what  are  for  us  mere  animals 
and  material  objects  than  he  did  to  human 
beings.  His  ceremonials  centered  in  the 
things  around  him.  Often  it  was  his  food. 
At  times  it  was  a  mountain  or  a  stream. 
His  deities  were  rice  or  maize,  sheep  or  kan- 
garoos, or  any  other  objects  acutely  con- 
nected with  his  wants  and  his  satisfactions. 
For  long  ages  he  cherished  such  things  more 
than  he  did  his  own  human  kind.  It  is  still 
true  in  some  countries  that  animals  are 
treated  with  more  consideration  than  men 
and  especially  than  women.  Sometimes 
our  western  civilization  is  accused  of  valu- 
ing its  machines  higher  than  the  lives  of  the 
29 


30  The  New  Orthodoxy 

men  who  run  them.  But  in  spite  of  all 
exceptions  and  of  all  failures  to  live  up  to 
it,  the  motto  everywhere  displayed  is 
"safety  first"  for  human  beings.  We  are 
rapidly  making  this  devotion  to  human 
welfare  religious.  It  is  only  recently  that 
negro  slavery  was  abolished,  and  now  agi- 
tation grows  against  the  slavery  of  women, 
wage-slavery,  and  all  forms  of  the  subordi- 
nation of  men,  women,  or  children  to  un- 
just or  merely  impersonal  interests.  Not 
only  must  they  be  freed  from  various  kinds 
of  bondage,  but  movements  are  under  way 
to  give  them  the  resources  of  a  larger 
human  existence  by  means  of  education, 
better  economic  conditions,  and  larger 
opportunities  for  recreation,  social  con- 
tact, and  genuine  freedom. 

The  conservation  of  the  race  has  come  to 
be  recognized  as  more  important  than  the 
conservation  of  timber  and  minerals.  This 
is  no  longer  merely  a  sentiment,  but  it  is 
embodied  in  laws  and  institutions.  Not 
only  do  men  exist  for  the  state,  but  the  state 
exists  for  men.  At  last  man's  understand- 


Its  Dramatis  Personae  31 

ing  of  himself  has  become  clear  enough  for 
him  to  see  that  his  highest  duty  is  toward 
his  own  kind,  and  that  unless  the  life  of 
man  himself  is  becoming  larger  and  finer 
nothing  else  can  yield  enduring  satisfac- 
tion. This  is  the  meaning  of  the  wars  for 
freedom  and  for  conscience.  The  heroes  of 
liberty  and  democracy  have  thought  of 
nothing  as  comparable  in  importance  with 
the  nurture  and  enrichment  of  the  spirit  of 
man. 

This  love  of  man  toward  man  is  cher- 
ished for  no  other  reason  than  that  it  seems 
the  only  natural  and  human  attitude.  It 
yields  its  own  rewards.  As  a  father  scorns 
the  thought  that  his  love  for  his  son  needs 
any  command  to  stimulate  it  or  any  hope 
of  reward  to  keep  it  alive,  so  thousands  who 
have  caught  the  social  vision  of  our  time 
labor  for  better  laws,  better  schools,  better 
recreations  without  waiting  for  a  text  of 
Scripture  to  tell  them  that  this  is  their  duty 
and  without  expecting  any  other  compen- 
sation than  just  that  of  seeing  these  results 
accomplished.  Gradually  it  is  becoming 


32  Tlie  New  Orthodoxy 

apparent  that  this  was  precisely  the  atti- 
tude which  dominated  the  mind  and  will  of 
Jesus.  Therefore  leaders  of  social,  humani- 
tarian reforms  find  themselves  in  full  ac- 
cord with  his  spirit  and  ideals.  They  have 
come  to  have  the  same  interest  in  building 
a  society  that  shall  minister  to  the  deepest 
human  wants.  Often  they  have  found  this 
ideal  by  direct  dealings  with  human  needs, 
much  as  he  himself  found  it.  Therefore 
a  new  sense  of  comradeship  is  springing  up 
between  them  and  him,  for  they  are  fellow- 
workers  in  the  same  great  cause.  It  is  not 
necessary  to  decide  whether  Jesus  was  the 
first  to  have  this  attitude.  Nor  is  it  vital 
to  know  just  how  far  he  is  responsible  for 
this  feeling  wherever  it  appears  at  the 
present  time.  We  have  come  to  know  it 
as  the  Christian  view  of  life,  and  we  think 
of  it  as  Christlike  no  matter  in  whom  it  is 
manifest.  The  religious  life  therefore  in- 
volves one's  own  personality,  the  person- 
ality of  others,  and  of  God.  These  are  the 
dramatis  personae.  In  a  history  of  reli- 
gion it  would  be  necessary  to  take  account 


Its  Dramatis  Personae  33 

of  angels  and  demons,  demigods  and  in- 
numerable tribal  deities.  Here  it  is  suffi- 
cient to  interpret  the  self  and  other  souls, 
including  Jesus  Christ,  the  church,  and 
God.  These  are  as  intimately  related  to 
one  another  as  the  members  of  a  family. 
Each  must  be  seen  in  relation  to  the  rest. 
No  one  of  them  liveth  unto  himself. 

Self  is  the  word  now  more  commonly 
used  than  soul  or  spirit.  It  is  the  mind  as 
it  knows  itself.  When  one  says  "I"  or 
"me"  or  refers  to  himself  by  name,  he  des- 
ignates the  self.  The  description  of  one's 
own  personality  is  peculiarly  difficult,  but 
the  sense  of  it  is  most  ultimate  and  vital. 
The  psychologists  have  made  great  efforts 
to  make  it  clear,  but  with  all  their  training 
and  practice  they  have  not  satisfied  them- 
selves. Professor  James  made  a  notable 
contribution  to  the  description  and  under- 
standing of  the  self,  and  all  writers  upon  the 
subject  go  back  to  him  for  help.  He  cites 
the  case  of  Peter  and  Paul,  who  talk  over 
the  events  of  the  day  just  before  they  fall 
asleep.  Each  understands  the  other  and 


34  The  New  Orthodoxy 

each  enters  into  the  other's  moods.  They 
keep  their  own  selves  distinct,  however. 
No  confusion  occurs  between  them  when 
they  wake  in  the  morning.  Each  takes  up 
his  own  train  of  ideas  and  connects  with  the 
events  of  the  previous  day  without  uncer- 
tainty as  to  whether  he  is  recalling  his  own 
or  the  other's  feelings.  The  basis  of  this 
recognition  of  his  own  state  and  of  him- 
self is  in  each  case  just  the  peculiar 
"warmth  and  intimacy"  which  one  feels 
for  some  ideas  or  actions  and  not  for 
others.  Out  of  the  stream  of  the  conver- 
sation of  the  night  before  some  attitudes 
and  emotions  are  recalled  which  are  wel- 
comed at  once  as  belonging  to  one's  own 
inner  world.  In  contrast  to  them  the  atti- 
tudes and  emotions  of  the  other  person  are 
more  remote,  colder,  and  carry  no  sense 
of  possession. 

The  self  is  the  being  any  man  experiences 
himself  to  be.  He  is  known  to  himself 
immediately  in  the  sense  of  being  at  home 
with  his  thoughts  and  feelings.  His  own 
moods  and  memories  are  more  familiar, 


Its  Dramatis  Personae  35 

more  urgent  and  alive.  The  self  may  un- 
dergo sudden  and  extreme  changes  and  yet 
retain  the  feeling  of  being  the  same  person. 
The  changes  are  just  as  real  as  the  same- 
ness. We  are  actually  different  from  mood 
to  mood.  It  is  astonishing  how  profoundly 
the  sense  of  ourselves  may  be  affected  by  a 
cup  of  coffee,  a  breath  of  fresh  air  suddenly 
let  into  a  stuffy  room,  a  refreshing  night's 
sleep,  success  at  a  favorite  game. 

When  I  fall  in  with  a  stranger  in  a  rail- 
way coach,  it  is  this  actual  self  which  is  dis- 
closed to  him.  He  begins  by  remarking 
that  the  weather  is  unusual  for  the  time  of 
year.  I  give  him  a  courteous  but  general 
reply.  He  then  refers  to  the  football  score 
of  the  previous  day,  and  I  am  all  anima- 
tion, volunteering  remarks  about  a  certain 
team  whose  players  I  know  and  whose 
records  are  forthwith  reviewed.  Later  the 
evening  paper  is  thrust  before  us  by  the 
newsboy,  and  the  headlines  are  appeals 
met  by  varying  degrees  of  zest  and  atten- 
tion. If  we  journey  far  and  become  com- 
municative, we  thus  become  aware  of  the 


36  The  New  Orthodoxy 

nature  of  the  self  possessed  by  each  one. 
His  self  is  that  of  a  traveling  salesman  deal- 
ing in  rubber.  He  is  well  developed  with 
reference  to  automobile  tires,  rubber  boots, 
water  hose,  their  uses,  prices,  and  possible 
substitutes.  Socialism  is  his  political 
creed.  His  heart  is  wrapped  up  in  a  ten- 
year-old  daughter  whose  studies  and  play 
and  pets  have  forced  him  to  attend  to  a 
new  world  of  things  essential  to  the  life  of  a 
little  girl.  The  conversation  reveals  by 
many  allusions  and  exclamations,  stories 
and  passing  references,  the  outline  of  his 
inner  world.  I  remark  afterward  that  I 
became  acquainted  with  Mr.  Smith  during 
that  journey.  It  is  literally  true.  His 
personality  stood  forth  in  his  very  vocabu- 
lary and  gestures.  At  some  questions  of 
mine  he  would  return  quick  answers  with 
eagerness,  while  to  others  he  would  merely 
say  indifferently  that  he  did  not  know. 
Occasionally,  as  when  he  mentioned  his 
little  girl,  one  could  observe  an  almost 
tragic  tension,  as  if  his  very  heart  rose  and 
beat  in  his  words  with  anxiety  and  tense 


Its  Dramatis  Personae  37 

affection.  He  followed  none  of  my  hints 
about  Schopenhauer  or  chess  or  South 
America,  knew  nothing  of  Bret  Harte,  and 
cared  nothing  for  Airedale  dogs.  It  was 
not  difficult  to  see  that  his  self  was  highly 
developed  on  the  side  of  business  and  dis- 
closed depths  of  fatherly  pride  in  his 
daughter,  but  was  quite  lacking  in  appre- 
ciation of  poetry  and  conventional  religion. 
It  is  in  some  such  way  that  the  practical 
person,  whether  he  be  scholar  or  man  of 
affairs,  understands  the  self.  He  knows  it 
best  of  all  in  his  own  experience.  He  un- 
derstands what  it  is  to  be  perplexed  and 
depressed  over  his  mistakes  and  misfor- 
tunes, and  also  what  it  is  to  be  elated  over 
success.  If  religion  could  talk  to  him  in 
terms  of  those  experiences,  he  could  under- 
stand it.  It  is  this  self  which  has  to  be 
reckoned  with  first  of  all.  Whether  reli- 
gion is  vital  depends  on  whether  it  is  a 
warm  and  powerful  interest  to  this  self 
which  is  also  concerned  with  business  and 
home  and  pleasure.  The  measure  of  a 
man's  interest  in  religion  may  be  truly  seen 


38  The  New  Orthodoxy 

in  the  time  and  thought  he  gives  to  it,  in 
the  response  he  makes  to  it  in  conversa- 
tion, in  the  courage  and  patience  with 
which  he  seeks  to  understand  it  in  his  read- 
ing and  reflection. 

Jesus  realized  that  when  men  are  most 
serious  and  honest  with  themselves  they 
count  their  ideal  moral  interests  of  the 
greatest  importance.  When  it  comes  to  a 
test,  all  realize  that  "a  man's  life  consisteth 
not  in  the  abundance  of  the  things  which 
he  possesseth."  If  it  is  a  conflict  between 
one's  comfort  and  one's  honor,  the  average 
man  knows  at  once  how  to  choose.  Few 
men  will  betray  their  country  for  bribes. 
Thousands  are  now  freely  giving  up  their 
business  or  profession  in  order  to  fulfil  the 
larger  lif e  of  patriotism  and  of  devotion  to 
a  new  world-order.  They  fear  not  those 
who  can  merely  destroy  the  body,  but  fear 
rather  those  who  strike  at  the  soul  of  lib- 
erty and  justice.  There  is  now  more  ur- 
gent meaning  in  those  words  of  Jesus, 
"What  shall  it  profit  a  man  if  he  shall  gain 
the  whole  world  and  lose  his  own  soul" — 


Its  Dramatis  Personae  39 

his  larger  and  nobler  self  ?  Religion  mag- 
nifies this  better  self  for  which  men  are  will- 
ing to  sacrifice  everything  else. 

One  of  the  characteristics  of  this  self  is 
that  it  has  no  independent  being  but  is 
intimately  and  organically  bound  up  with 
others.  It  is  a  common  observation  that 
a  single  child  in  a  home  is  at  a  very  real 
disadvantage  as  compared  with  one  who 
has  brothers  and  sisters.  The  conditions 
for  growth  of  personality  lie  in  the  give  and 
take  of  the  interaction  of  many  individuals. 
If  a  human  infant  could  be  kept  alive  and 
brought  to  years  of  maturity  without  con- 
tact with  other  human  beings,  it  is  difficult 
to  imagine  how  pitiful  and  inhuman  his 
state  would  be.  He  would  be  without 
language  and  would  have  few,  if  any,  of 
the  abilities  which  set  man  apart  from  the 
lower  animals.  A  distinctively  human  self 
would  be  lacking  in  him.  By  the  same 
principle  the  more  vital  relations  a  person 
has  with  the  developed  human  world  the 
larger  self  or  personality  he  gains.  There- 
fore other  friendly  persons  are  indispensable 


40 

conditions  of  the  religious  life.  They  con- 
stitute the  family  group  within  which  one 
is  nourished,  protected,  and  fashioned. 
In  its  early  days  the  church  was  sometimes 
identical  with  a  household.  It  is  not  an 
accident  that  the  terms  denoting  the  do- 
mestic life  hold  over  into  the  larger  body. 
The  members  of  the  church  have  the  same 
intimate  feeling  for  each  other.  They  call 
themselves  brothers  and  sisters.  They 
exercise  brotherly  care  and  affection  and 
discipline.  Misunderstandings  of  the  na- 
ture and  function  of  the  church  would  often 
be  avoided  if  it  were  more  commonly 
thought  of  in  terms  of  this  natural  family 
relation.  It  would  be  seen  to  be  less  formal 
and  more  intimate,  nearer  and  more  pliable 
in  its  action  upon  its  members.  This  en- 
compassing body  becomes  a  kind  of  corpo- 
rate personality.  One  feels  loyalty  toward 
it  and  protects  its  good  name.  Through  a 
sense  of  participation  in  its  larger,  more 
stable  life  the  individual  comes  to  con- 
sciousness of  himself  and  of  it.  The  church 
was  in  early  Christian  society,  and  in  its 


Its  Dramatis  Personae  41 

less  formal  types  is  today,  more  nearly 
what  the  old  clan  group  was  to  its  mem- 
bers— an  intimate  association,  sustaining 
and  controlling  them  without  the  narrow- 
ness and  antagonism  of  the  circumscribed 
clan.  Every  interest  of  the  local  church 
tends  to  carry  the  intimacy  and  affection  of 
its  inner  life  out  to  the  larger  invisible 
church  universal  of  which  it  feels  itself  a 
part.  In  the  literature  of  the  early  Chris- 
tians that  tendency  was  marked.  The  ref- 
erences to  the  grace  of  hospitality  are  fre- 
quent. When  they  traveled  into  distant 
cities  they  were  often  cared  for  in  the 
homes  of  their  comrades  in  the  faith  to 
whom  they  were  otherwise  entire  strangers. 
The  church  became  to  the  apostle  Paul 
one  organic  body,  mystical  and  spiritual, 
yet  real,  within  which  the  individual  felt 
himself  upborne  and  nurtured.  So  vivid 
was  this  wholeness  and  spiritual  unity  for 
him  that  he  thought  of  it  as  one  being,  a 
person,  the  bride  of  Christ.  For  her  de- 
vout sons  the  church  is  a  great  life  running 
through  the  centuries,  constituted  of  all 


42  The  New  Orthodoxy 

those  who  have  participated  in  her  faith 
and  work.  In  her  are  included  all  the 
noble  company  of  the  apostles,  heroes, 
martyrs,  and  saints  who  have  shared  in 
her  labors  and  hopes.  They  merge  into 
her  growing  soul  and  form  that  vast  com- 
munion in  whose  fellowship  the  Christian 
renews  his  sense  of  the  reality  of  the  King- 
dom of  Heaven. 

Often,  in  the  past,  the  church  has  seemed 
to  stand  in  sharp  contrast  to  other  institu- 
tions. For  many  centuries  Christianity 
awakened  the  scorn  and  then  the  fear  and 
opposition  of  the  older  order.  To  the 
Christians  the  governments,  the  armies, 
the  wealth,  and  most  of  the  comforts  of  life 
appeared  to  belong,  not  to  them,  but  to  the 
world.  Christianity  became  a  thing  apart 
and  remains  so  in  its  inner  feeling  and  atti- 
tude to  this  day  among  the  vast  majority 
of  its  followers.  They  do  not  yet  really 
believe  that  it  is  possible  for  a  man  to  be 
both  a  citizen  of  this  world  and  a  citizen 
of  the  heavenly  kingdom  without  incon- 
sistency and  tragic  conflict.  In  spite  of 


7/5  Dramatis  Personae  43 

her  victory  over  the  temporal  powers, 
the  Catholic  church  never  came  to  the 
point  where  she  could  trust  herself  to  live 
in  the  world.  To  this  day  she  remains 
apart,  celibate  and  otherworldly,  mystical 
and  ascetic,  through  the  conviction  that 
the  life  of  the  spirit  is  fundamentally  in- 
compatible with  the  natural  order.  All 
other  Christian  bodies  have  been  deeply 
infected  with  that  despair  of  this  world. 
Therefore  there  yet  remains  over  against 
the  traditional  Christian  the  traditional 
worldling.  This  worldling  is  one  of  the 
dramatis  personae.  He  is  a  less  lively 
figure  in  the  imagination  now  than  in  the 
past,  though  he  still  gives  color  and  con- 
trast to  the  fading  picture.  He  is  gaily 
dressed.  He  employs  the  arts,  is  convivial 
and  human.  He  was  as  repugnant  to  the 
puritan  as  to  the  old  ascetic.  In  modern 
religion  he  isn't  so  bad.  If  he  is  merely 
a  pleasure-seeker,  without  serious  purpose, 
he  falls  under  the  judgment  that  he  is  use- 
ful neither  to  himself  nor  to  society.  His 
way  of  living  carries  its  own  condemnation, 


44  The  New  Orthodoxy 

for  it  does  not  yield  the  solid  satisfactions 
of  larger  participation  in  the  affairs  of  the 
community. 

We  are  finding  out,  however,  new  uses 
for  leisure,  for  art,  for  play,  and  for  wealth. 
Here  we  are  in  deeper  accord  with  Jesus 
than  with  his  mediaeval  or  puritanical  fol- 
lowers. He  moved  in  the  midst  of  the 
stream  of  human  life,  amused  and  stirred 
as  well  as  angered  and  amazed  that  men 
should  be  so  blind  and  wasteful  of  their 
opportunities.  The  traditional  contrast 
between  the  saints  and  the  sinners,  be- 
tween the  saved  and  the  lost,  does  not  hold 
in  its  familiar  form.  Those  terms  belonged 
to  a  static  and  fixed  system  in  which  it  was 
thought  one  must  be  either  all  of  one  or  all 
of  the  other.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  the 
Christian  life  is  a  growth,  and  those  who 
participate  in  it  are  not  altogether  perfect, 
nor  are  those  who  do  not  profess  it  alto- 
gether bad.  There  is  much  that  is  bad  in 
the  best  of  us,  and  there  is  a  great  deal  of 
good  in  the  worst  of  us.  Some  people  in 
the  churches  have  tendencies  which,  if  un- 


Its  Dramatis  Personae  45 

checked,  would  take  them  to  the  peniten- 
tiary, while  some  convicts  in  prisons  would 
probably  make  good  mayors  of  cities  or 
good  editors  of  newspapers.  The  prison 
walls  are  not  coterminous  with  the  bounds 
of  sin  and  virtue,  nor  are  the  walls  of  the 
churches  the  sharp  dividing  line.  Human 
life  is  mixed  in  all  men.  That  which  en- 
titles one  to  be  called  a  good  man  is  not 
perfection  but  fairly  reliable  desires  and 
habits  for  doing  the  right  thing,  and  that 
which  classifies  one  as  bad  is  his  perverse 
desires  and  habits,  which  tend  to  get  him 
into  trouble  and  to  lead  to  defeat.  In  such 
a  state  society  cannot  be  perfect  either. 
Like  the  individuals  in  it,  it  is  mixed,  and 
may  be  considered  good  or  bad  in  terms 
of  its  tendencies  and  its  fruits. 

Three  of  the  most  important  of  the 
dramatis  personae.  remain  for  considera- 
tion. Usually  they  are  referred  to  as  the 
three  persons  of  the  Trinity,  the  meaning 
of  which  word  has  never  been  made  clear. 
The  doctrines  of  the  Trinity  have  little 
significance  in  our  time.  They  are  not 


46  The  New  Orthodoxy 

demanded  by  our  moral  life  and  they  are  not 
taught  by  the  Scriptures.  Therefore  they 
may  be  allowed  to  pass  with  the  intellec- 
tual world  to  which  they  belonged.  If  it 
were  necessary  to  treat  of  Jesus  in  relation 
to  the  Trinity  the  modern  theologian 
would  have  little  to  say  except  what  con- 
cerns the  history  of  that  conception.  For 
himself  it  has  little  meaning.  But  of  Jesus 
there  is  much  to  say.  The  impression  of 
his  life  is  so  natural  and  convincing  in  the 
New  Testament  that  there  is  little  force  in 
the  contention  that  he  never  lived.  Even 
the  stories  relating  to  his  birth  and  his 
death  are  such  as  might  easily  have  grown 
up  among  his  followers  in  that  age  without 
any  intention  to  deceive  or  misread  the 
facts.  Those  stories  are  the  expression  of 
the  boundless  love  and  admiration  of  men 
who  believed  him  utterly  divine.  They  are 
the  record  of  the  wonder-love  of  the  human 
heart,  which  continues  to  make  legend- 
ary narratives  about  very  human  men. 
It  has  happened  to  Abraham  Lincoln, 
who  lived  in  the  full  light  of  a  scien- 


Its  Dramatis  Personae  47 

tific  era  and  died  little  more  than  a  half- 
century  ago.  The  figure  of  Jesus  as  a 
moral  teacher  and  as  a  courageous  freeman 
against  the  background  of  hard  conven- 
tion and  narrow  prejudice  is  becoming 
more  distinct  and  more  moving.  There  is 
no  doubt  that  fine  souls  have  been  turned 
from  him  by  the  artificial  and  preposterous 
claims  of  many  of  his  followers.  But  now 
that  it  is  possible  to  understand  him  more 
directly  and  to  assess  his  mind  and  mes- 
sage more  adequately,  he  is  gaining  a  new 
hold  upon  the  will  and  the  affection  of  all 
classes.  If  it  were  only  the  educated 
classes  who  were  discovering  the  power  of 
his  personality,  it  would  not  be  so  signifi- 
cant, but  there  are  signs  that  the  masses  of 
men  are  coming  to  realize  better  how  near 
he  is  to  them  and  how  sincerely  he  speaks 
to  the  heart  of  the  common  people.  His 
words  remain  unique  and  vital  in  religion 
as  those  of  Shakespeare  do  in  literature 
or  of  Plato  in  philosophy.  He  moves  to 
the  heart  of  moral  issues  with  the  sure, 
swift  insight  of  clear  thought  and  of  pure 


48  The  New  Orthodoxy 

impulse.  He  speaks  out  of  life  and  by 
constant  reference  to  it  almost  like  an 
empirical  scientist  of  today.  This  funda- 
mental note  is  so  clear  that  it  becomes  a 
touchstone  in  connection  with  scholarly 
studies  for  deciding  the  genuineness  of 
doubtful  passages.  Nor  is  it  difficult  to  be- 
lieve that  this  urgent  religious  enthusiasm 
for  moral  ideals  will  keep  him  supreme 
among  the  religious  leaders  through  the 
ages.  He  will  continue  to  be  the  living 
companion  of  those  who  come  to  know 
him,  and  the  charm  of  his  personality  will 
continue  to  radiate  itself  through  the 
world. 

The  Holy  Spirit  in  the  history  of  the 
church  came  into  prominence  after  the 
death  of  Jesus.  He  was  the  Comforter  who 
arose  in  the  thought  of  the  early  disciples 
when  they  were  bereft.  He  was  an  unseen 
presence  felt  whenever  they  came  together 
and  opened  their  hearts  to  one  another. 
To  him  they  attributed  the  words  which 
they  spoke  in  moments  of  peril  before 
judges  and  accusers  or  at  times  of  elation 


Its  Dramatis  Personae  49 

in  the  assembly  of  the  church.  It  is  not 
impossible  to  identify  the  experience  out  of 
which  this  personality  arose.  It  is  recog- 
nized in  the  sense  of  companionship  we 
have  felt  in  the  uplifting  moments  of  great 
gatherings  or  when  moved  by  an  over- 
mastering impulse  to  utter  the  truth  as  we 
see  it.  Colonel  Francis  Younghusband,  of 
the  English  expeditionary  forces  to  Thibet, 
tells  of  his  experience  when  wounded  and 
ill  in  the  hospital  in  Llhassa.  He  felt 
borne  up  by  the  physicians  and  the  nurses 
and  by  the  atmosphere  of  sympathy  and 
comfort  which  they  created  around  him. 
The  spirit  of  this  group  of  friends  and 
helpers  became  to  him  the  Holy  Spirit. 
He  said  to  a  friend,  "In  those  days  the 
God  who  was  most  real  to  me  was  not  God 
the  Father;  nor  God  the  Son;  but  God  the 
Holy  Spirit." 

This  experience  expresses  the  tendency 
of  many  discerning  souls  in  their  thought 
of  God.  He  is  no  longer  sought  outside 
the  world  in  unattainable  distances  of 
the  unknown  and  unknowable.  Nor  is  he 


So 

approached  primarily  through  physical  na- 
ture. He  is  found  in  the  associated  life  of 
men,  especially  when  that  association  is 
aspiring  and  productive.  Men  are  at  their 
best  when  striving  for  fuller  life,  for  more 
adequate  knowledge,  and  a  larger  measure 
of  justice.  God  is  love;  the  serving,  suffer- 
ing, healing  love  which  binds  men  together 
in  nations  and  kindreds  and  leagues  of 
peace  for  the  common  good.  Every  con- 
structive, fruitful  organization  of  people  is 
a  means  of  understanding  the  divine.  It 
is  not  an  accident  that  we  think  of  great 
social  entities  as  great  personalities.  Our 
college  is  our  Virgin  Mother,  to  whom  we 
address  songs  and  sentiments  of  genuine 
affection.  Our  city  has  a  personality, 
photographed  and  visualized,  whenever 
her  honor  or  her  ambition  is  challenged. 
Each  state  has  an  individuality  and  every 
nation  is  personified  through  a  definite  face 
and  figure.  Is  it  not  just  as  natural  to 
sum  up  the  meaning  of  the  whole  of  life  in 
the  person  and  image  of  God  ?  Seemingly 
it  is  equally  inevitable.  It  appears  to  be 


Its  Dramatis  Personae  51 

the  most  natural  and  the  simplest  way  to 
represent  to  our  minds  and  wills  the  moral 
values  and  the  spiritual  realities  of  life. 
Our  own  selves  have  grown  up  through 
interaction  with  other  selves  both  sensible 
and  ideal.  In  our  private  reflections  we 
carry  on  conversations  with  people  present 
to  our  imaginations  who  are  none  the  less 
important  and  influential  with  us  because 
they  are  not  physically  tangible  and  visible. 
God  is  the  great  Ideal  Companion.  To 
commune  with  him  is  to  gain  new  apprecia- 
tions of  all  that  he  signifies  to  us.  He  is 
then  identified  with  Strength  and  Wisdom 
and  Nobility.  To  be  loyal  to  him  is  to 
strive  to  adhere  to  all  that  he  means  to  us. 
To  develop  the  familiar  image  of  a  par- 
ent or  friend  or  historical  character  to  the 
point  where  it  serves  as  the  most  vivid 
symbol  of  the  divine  is  doubtless  a  com- 
mon experience.  "The  light  of  the  knowl- 
edge of  the  glory  of  God  in  the  fact  of  Jesus 
Christ"  is  the  great  reality  to  Christians. 
The  warmth  and  comfort  and  contentment 
which  Christianity  affords  may  be  found 


52  The  New  Orthodoxy 

largely  in  that  fact.  In  him  God  comes 
near  and  takes  the  form  we  can  grasp  and 
utilize.  In  practical  religious  life  men 
easily  feel  themselves  in  the  presence  of 
God  when  they  recall  his  face.  This  is  not 
due  so  much  to  any  theological  conviction 
about  the  doctrine  of  his  divinity  as  it  is 
to  long  training  and  practice  in  associating 
Christ  with  all  that  they  feel  and  respect 
as  divine. 

All  these  persons  of  the  religious  drama 
cannot  be  separated  from  each  other. 
They  are  bound  up  together  in  an  intimacy 
as  vital  as  that  which  unites  the  members 
of  an  organism.  No  one  of  them  can 
live  without  the  others  nor  without  the 
whole.  The  self  grows  through  interplay 
with  the  selves  around  it.  It  could  not 
exist  without  them.  Over  and  above  the 
particular  persons  constituting  one's  class 
or  country  or  world  is  the  feeling  of  the 
entity  of  the  class  or  country  or  world 
itself.  Each  class  in  a  school  possesses  an 
individuality  to  which  the  members  mani- 
fest loyalty  and  reverence.  That  indi- 


Its  Dramatis  Personae  53 

viduality  has  a  certain  objectivity  and  per- 
manence above  and  beyond  any  particular 
persons  within  it.  In  a  sense  it  transcends 
them.  Yet  that  individuality  obviously  is 
in  and  through  them.  If  this  be  the  nature 
of  God  as  the  Ideal  Socius,  then  he  too  has 
at  least  such  reality  and  objectivity.  He 
is  the  Soul  of  the  world  in  which  all  other 
selves  live  and  move  and  have  their  being. 


CHAPTER  III 

THE  NEW  ORTHODOXY:   ITS 
GROWING  BIBLE 

One  of  the  striking  facts  in  the  religious 
experience  of  the  modern  man  is  that  while 
he  seems  to  hold  sacred  things  more  lightly 
than  did  the  passing  generation,  yet  in 
reality  he  cherishes  those  to  which  he  does 
cling  with  a  more  vital  faith.  He  is  dis- 
covering that  religion  does  not  need  to  be 
defended  and  protected  in  order  to  preserve 
it  in  the  world.  It  has  a  surprising  depth 
and  persistence.  The  rationalistic  mind  of 
the  eighteenth  and  nineteenth  centuries, 
which  still  survives  here  and  there  in  so- 
cieties and  individuals  designating  them- 
selves as  rationalists,  assumed  that  religion 
could  not  survive  criticism.  They  sup- 
posed that  religion  was  so  inextricably 
bound  up  with  superstition  and  super- 
naturalism  that  when  these  were  exposed 
and  cast  aside  religion  itself  would  perish. 

54 


7/5  Growing  Bible  55 

This  too  has  been  the  conviction  of  the 
extreme  conservatives.  They  must  believe 
the  Bible  "from  cover  to  cover"  or  reject 
it  all.  If  they  should  relax  their  adherence 
to  miracle  or  prophecy  they  could  not  be- 
lieve in  the  veracity  of  the  teaching. 
There  is  thus  a  significant  likeness  between 
the  extremes.  They  agree  that  one  must 
accept  all  or  nothing.  No  discrimination 
or  qualification  is  approved.  The  Bible 
and  the  Christian  religion  are  to  be  de- 
fended or  rejected  in  toto. 

The  man  of  the  modern  mind,  trained  in 
history  and  in  the  social  sciences,  takes  a 
different  view.  He  does  not  indorse  all 
that  has  been  claimed  for  the  Bible  nor 
does  he  take  it  to  be  of  equal  worth  in  all 
its  parts.  Yet  he  finds  in  it  messages  of 
greatest  value.  Even  contradictions,  dis- 
crepancies, superstitions,  and  myths  may 
be  discovered  without  weakening  the  force 
of  the  moral  ideals  and  precepts.  Those 
things  which  are  self-evidencing  and  veri- 
fiable in  experience  cannot  be  deprived  of 
their  validity  because  of  accompanying 


56  The  New  Orthodoxy 

errors  or  misconceptions.  Religion  is  at 
last  seen  to  be  greater  than  the  traditions 
which  have  grown  up  with  it.  It  has 
deeper  springs  in  human  nature  than  have 
been  suspected.  Instead  of  being  a  deli- 
cate and  tender  growth  it  proves  to  be 
hardy  and  vigorous.  Therefore  it  does  not 
have  to  be  sheltered  and  hidden  against 
investigation  and  criticism.  It  cannot 
thrive  at  its  best  under  patronizing  influ- 
ences nor  at  the  hands  of  those  who  are 
unwilling  to  trust  it  to  the  free  play  of 
social  forces.  Certainly  many  men  in  our 
time  have  been  surprised  to  realize  how 
much  more  vital  and  satisfying  their  reli- 
gious faith  became  the  moment  they  began 
to  view  it  with  the  same  freedom  and  in- 
telligence with  which  they  regard  art  and 
politics.  As  with  all  other  big  human  con- 
cerns, religion  is  at  its  best  where  it  is  close 
to  lif  e,  unhindered  by  authority  and  open  to 
reasonable,  sympathetic  criticism.  Again 
and  again  in  the  history  of  Christianity  its 
vital  force  has  broken  through  old  forms 
and  doctrines  and  created  new  symbols  and 


Its  Growing  Bible  57 

types  of  service.  The  dogma  of  biblical 
infallibility  is  one  of  the  artificialities  re- 
cently discarded,  and  the  result  has  been 
the  strengthening  of  religion. 

One  of  the  best  correctives  for  mistaken 
and  exaggerated  views  of  any  phase  of  re- 
ligion is  the  study  of  its  history.  When  the 
Bible  is  viewed  from  the  beginning  of  the 
church  through  the  changing  centuries, 
many  things  concerning  it  are  made  plain. 
The  word  "  Bible  "  gets  a  new  meaning.  It 
is  no  more  a  single  book  but  a  collection  of 
books.  The  proper  translation  of  the 
Greek  from  which  the  word  "Bible"  comes 
is  "the  books."  That  fact  alone  lessens 
the  impression  of  singleness  and  unity 
which  has  prevailed.  The  Bible  means  a 
collection  of  writings,  a  little  library  of 
sixty-six  books.  These  are  all  printed 
separately  by  the  American  Bible  Society 
at  one  penny  each,  and  it  might  be  an  aid 
to  the  right  use  of  them  if  they  were  always 
sold  separately  rather  than  being  bound 
together  in  flexible  bindings  so  different 
from  other  books.  It  is  even  an  occasion 


58  The  New  Orthodoxy 

of  comment  to  be  seen  carrying  a  copy  of 
the  Bible  on  the  street,  especially  on  any 
other  day  than  Sunday,  because  it  is  still 
felt  to  be  different  from  other  books,  and 
those  who  carry  it  are  looked  upon  as  not 
quite  natural  and  human. 

The  fact  that  the  Bible  is  not  one  but 
many  books  is  clear  from  the  history  of  the 
selection  of  the  writings  contained  in  it. 
It  is  difficult  for  us  to  realize  that  the  Bible 
has  not  always  meant  just  the  words 
brought  together  in  our  Oxford  editions. 
Few  people  stop  to  think  that  the  early 
church  did  not  have  any  of  the  writings  of 
the  New  Testament  until  the  latter  part 
of  the  first  century,  and  then  only  in  the 
informal  and  uncompilated  form  of  letters 
and  sayings  circulated  from  hand  to  hand 
and  by  word  of  mouth.  Yet  it  is  of  pro- 
found importance  to  realize  that  the  church 
is  older  than  its  written  documents  and  was 
the  cause  of  them.  Naturally  today  the 
book  is  regarded  as  the  seed  from  which 
churches  spring,  and  the  common  impres- 
sion easily  arises  that  it  was  always  so,  but 


Its  Growing  Bible  5$ 

originally  the  opposite  was  the  case.  The 
first  disciples  had,  of  course,  only  the 
Scriptures  of  the  Old  Testament,  and  these 
were  in  different  versions,  lacking  uni- 
formity as  to  the  number  and  character  of 
the  constituent  books.  It  was  late  in  the 
fourth  century  before  a  list  of  the  New  Tes- 
tament books  appeared  which  is  identical 
with  our  own.  Before  that  time  there  was 
a  very  notable  variation.  The  oldest  parts 
of  our  New  Testament  are  the  letters  of 
Paul.  These  began  to  be  written  about 
twenty  years  after  the  death  of  Jesus. 
They  were  not  prepared  for  publication, 
much  less  as  permanent  documents.  They 
were  concerned  with  problems  in  local 
churches  and  with  the  conduct  and  spirit- 
ual needs  of  individuals,  and  were  passed 
around  among  interested  friends  in  much 
the  same  way  as  letters  today  from  one  on 
a  journey  or  at  war. 

Our  New  Testament  contains  twenty- 
seven  books,  but  Justin  Martyr  in  the 
middle  of  the  second  century  mentions  only 
thirteen  or  fourteen.  Irenaeus,  about 


60  The  New  Orthodoxy 

185  A.D.,  speaks  of  twenty-one.  A  list 
from  about  200  A.D.,  known  as  the  Mura- 
torian  Canon,  contains  twenty-four,  among 
which  are  the  Revelation  of  Peter  and  the 
Wisdom  of  Solomon.  The  author  of  this 
list  frankly  says  that  some  would  also  in- 
clude other  books,  and  names  the  Shepherd 
of  Hermas,  but  he  would  not  include  them. 
He  accepts  the  Apocalypse  of  Peter  as  well 
as  the  Revelation  of  John  which  we  have. 
But  he  does  not  have  the  Epistles  of  Peter, 
nor  the  third  letter  of  John,  nor  the  Epistle 
of  James.  Throughout  this  period  and 
until  the  time  of  the  Reformation  there  was 
never  so  much  importance  attached  to  the 
inspiration  and  authority  of  these  writings 
as  we  are  accustomed  to  ascribe  to  them. 
When  individual  Christians  sought  counsel 
and  instruction  they  went  to  the  church 
itself,  to  the  congregation  of  believers  or 
to  the  leaders,  such  as  the  presbyters  or 
bishops.  Until  the  age  of  Luther  the 
church  was  the  recognized  source  and 
medium  of  authority.  The  group  itself 
settled  its  problems  and  furnished  guid- 


Its  Growing  Bible  61 

ance  for  its  members.  The  congregations 
clearly  held  the  writings  of  Scripture  in 
high  esteem,  but  they  did  not  regard  them 
as  the  sole  nor  the  supreme  means  of  ascer- 
taining the  truth.  The  spirit  of  the  church 
itself  was  the  real  court  of  appeal.  This 
conviction  continued  into  Reformation 
times,  and  was  only  obscured  by  the  reac- 
tion against  abuses  by  the  hierarchy  of  the 
Roman  church.  Martin  Luther  himself, 
with  all  his  devotion  to  the  Bible,  did  not 
receive  all  of  the  books  as  of  equal  value, 
but  went  so  far  as  to  reject  the  letter  of 
James  as  "an  epistle  of  straw"  and  the 
Revelation  of  John  as  of  doubtful  right  to 
a  place  in  the  canon.  He  did  not  include 
the  Revelation  in  his  version  of  the  Scrip- 
tures but  printed  it  in  an  appendix  with 
Hebrews,  James,  and  Jude. 

Apparently  the  event  which  fixed  the 
Bible  in  the  form  in  which  we  know  it  was 
the  official  publication  of  the  King  James 
translation,  commonly  known  as  the 
Authorized  Version.  It  was  the  first 
authoritative  translation  of  the  whole 


62  The  New  Orthodoxy 

Bible  into  any  modern  vernacular  lan- 
guage. It  was  made  by  the  King's  com- 
mand. He  was  the  head  of  the  church  in 
England,  and  it  was  appointed  by  him  to 
be  read  in  the  churches.  The  reverence 
felt  for  the  Bible  was  greatly  augmented  by 
this  translation.  It  gained  prestige  and 
became  of  increasing  interest  to  the  people. 
It  was,  however,  too  expensive  to  be  pur- 
chased generally,  and  the  majority  were  too 
illiterate  to  read  it.  It  remained,  there- 
fore, in  the  hands  of  the  clergy  to  a  large 
extent  and  was  known  chiefly  to  the  public 
through  being  read  in  the  services  of  the 
churches.  By  the  natural  tendency  al- 
ready fostered  through  the  authority  of  the 
state  and  the  church  and  by  the  importance 
attached  to  it  by  the  preachers  among  the 
common  people,  the  book  came  to  be  re- 
garded with  a  feeling  of  awe  and  supersti- 
tious devotion.  Perhaps  it  was  the  work 
of  the  British  and  other  Bible  societies 
which  did  most  to  make  it  accessible  and 
at  the  same  time  to  transform  it  into  a  kind 
of  popular  fetish.  Before  the  organization 


7/5  Growing  Bible  63 

of  these  societies  the  Bible  was  a  luxury 
which  few  could  afford.  In  the  sixteenth 
century,  the  time  of  Shakespeare,  the  Bible 
was  so  rare  as  to  be  possessed  only  by  the 
few,  while  for  the  use  of  those  who  could 
not  buy  it  a  copy  was  chained  to  a  reading 
desk  in  the  cathedrals  where  the  people 
could  have  access  to  it  and  at  the  same 
time  not  be  able  to  steal  it. 

The  Bible  Society  changed  all  this  by 
printing  the  book  in  vast  editions.  Gifts 
of  charity  were  secured  for  its  wider  circu- 
lation. The  response  to  the  appeal  of  the 
society  on  behalf  of  the  poor  to  whom  it 
sought  to  distribute  Bibles  was  greater 
than  any  appeals  for  those  suffering  from 
famine  and  pestilence.  In  the  middle  of 
the  nineteenth  century  the  society  dis- 
tributed half  a  million  a  year  and  increased 
its  output  until  its  presence  in  the  house- 
holds of  the  common  people  in  civilized 
lands  and  in  countries  reached  by  mis- 
sionaries has  become  one  of  the  amazing 
phenomena  of  the  age.  The  faith  thus  dis- 
played in  the  power  of  the  Bible  without 


64  The  New  Orthodoxy 

note  or  comment  to  transform  the  world  is 
a  striking  illustration  of  the  miraculous  in- 
fluence attributed  to  it.  Along  with  the 
book  went  the  belief  in  its  complete  inspira- 
tion and  in  its  efficacy  to  convert  the  souls 
of  its  humblest  readers.  We  should  not 
marvel  that  it  was  regarded  as  a  sacred  ob- 
ject, whose  presence  brought  safety  to  the 
home  and  the  daily  reading  of  which 
accumulated  merit  for  the  soul.  It  is 
hardly  a  mere  coincidence  that  the  period 
of  its  greatest  circulation  has  been  the  time 
of  the  deepest  and  most  widespread  belief 
in  its  infallibility  and  uniqueness.  Many 
people  still  believe  that  they  can  at  any 
moment  receive  from  it  a  divine  message 
for  any  perplexity  on  the  first  page  opened 
at  random. 

The  fact  that  this  extreme  view  of  the 
supernatural  and  infallible  character  of  the 
Bible  is  so  recent  and  so  much  the  belief  of 
the  less  educated  classes  should  prepare 
us  to  understand  the  modern  view  without 
confusion  or  distrust.  The  first  step  in  the 
appreciation  of  what  is  meant  by  the  grow- 


Its  Growing  Bible  65 

ing  Bible  is  to  realize  that  the  conception 
of  it  as  a  complete  and  final  revelation  is 
exceptional  in  the  history  of  the  church  and 
is  characteristic  of  a  short  period  of  time 
which  is  now  passing  away.  The  older  and 
profounder  belief  that  God  has  not  left 
himself  without  witness  among  any  people 
and  that  he  has  his  living  prophets  in  every 
age  has  found  new  expression  through  the 
most  authentic  spirits  of  our  time.  There 
is  no  need  to  deny  to  the  first  Christian 
century  and  the  writings  of  the  early  dis- 
ciples a  certain  uniqueness  and  compelling 
directness.  They  have  the  quality  of  the 
first  fresh  impulse  and  urgent  moral  appeal 
of  the  personal  impress  of  Jesus  and  Paul 
and  their  immediate  companions.  What 
they  said  and  wrote  stands  apart  as  the 
record  of  an  epoch  distinct  from  any  before 
or  after  it.  Nowhere  is  it  duplicated,  nor 
is  it  likely  to  be.  On  this  account  its  canon 
of  documents  naturally  becomes  fairly  well 
defined.  'They  were  the  expression  of  a 
definite  personal  history  and  its  influence 
upon  certain  characters  and  institutions  of 


66  The  New  Orthodoxy 

the  time.  As  that  age  passed  into  history 
its  outline  took  shape  and  remains  clear 
among  all  the  epochs  of  man's  spiritual 
struggle.  So  well  marked  are  its  spirit  and 
its  word  that  it  is  possible  to  determine 
whether  newly  discovered  writings  really 
belong  to  it,  and  indeed  whether  specific 
lines  and  words  traditionally  embodied  in 
the  oldest  extant  manuscripts  are  genuine 
portions  of  the  Christian  message.  There 
is  some  possibility  that  discoveries  are  yet 
to  be  made  of  letters  or  gospels  purport- 
ing to  belong  to  that  message.  If  such 
should  appear,  their  indicated  date  and 
authorship  would  not  be  so  decisive  in 
determining  their  genuineness  as  would 
their  contents  and  their  correspondence 
with  that  which  is  already  known  as 
authentic. 

The  problem  of  establishing  the  body  of 
writings  which  belong  to  the  church  of  the 
first  century  is  not  radically  different  from 
that  of  selecting  the  great  literary  products 
of  any  other  well-defined  period,  such  as 
the  golden  age  of  Greece  or  the  Elizabethan 


Its  Growing  Bible  67 

era  of  English  history.  The  scholars  in 
these  fields  are  conscious  of  a  collection  of 
writings  just  as  characteristic,  just  as  or- 
ganic, as  the  collection  which  we  know  as 
the  Bible.  The  latter  is  the  product  of  the 
religious  life  of  the  Hebrew  people  and  its 
full  bloom  in  Christianity.  Those  records 
and  messages  which  constitute  the  Scrip- 
tures or  writings  of  that  stream  of  human 
experience  are  said  to  be  inspired,  inspira- 
tion here  being  equivalent  to  distinctness 
or  separateness.  But  the  fact  is  usually 
overlooked  that  the  selection  of  writ- 
ings which  are  "inspired"  was  determined 
finally  long  after  the  time  of  their  appear- 
ance. This  has  certainly  been  true  of  the 
canon  of  Scripture.  By  the  same  principle 
it  might  be  appropriate  to  say  that  certain 
books  belong  to  the  canon  of  Greek  litera- 
ture, namely,  those  which  bear  the  impress 
of  the  Greek  genius  as  shown  by  their  par- 
ticipation in  a  certain  body  of  characteris- 
tic ideas  and  attitudes.  These  are  the  only 
works  which  are  truly  inspired  by  that 
genius.  They  are  unique  and  inimitable. 


68 

That  canon  also  is  closed.     It  has  been 
finished  and  sealed. 

In  similar  manner  one  may  regard  the 
written  records  of  any  age.  The  Eliza- 
bethan era  of  English  letters  embraces  a 
definite  list  of  authors,  the  great  names 
of  which  are  Spenser,  Shakespeare,  and 
Bacon.  The  lesser  lights  are  Ben  Jonson, 
Marlowe,  Beaumont,  and  Fletcher,  with 
others  like  Lodge  and  Sidney  and  numer- 
ous anonymous  authors  making  up  the 
chorus  and  background.  These  all  have  a 
certain  kinship  in  their  problems  and  out- 
look and  general  philosophy  of  life.  The 
same  is  true  of  the  Victorian  writers,  Ten- 
nyson, Browning,  Matthew  Arnold,  and 
their  lesser  kin.  Each  distinctive  time  and 
movement  has  its  representative  spokes- 
men and  prophets.  Collections  of  their 
books  are  made  and  preserved  and  cher- 
ished by  their  devotees.  From  the  stand- 
point and  date  of  a  given  epoch  its 
literature  becomes  a  closed  book.  Seldom 
are  new  authors  of  importance  discovered 
whose  works  have  to  be  added  to  the  col- 


Its  Growing  Bible  69 

lections  already  extant.  But  in  a  larger 
sense  and  in  the  longer  perspective  the 
records  accumulate  throughout  the  entire 
unfolding  life  of  the  race.  The  Scriptures 
in  this  larger  sense  include  the  finest  prod- 
ucts of  the  spiritual  history  of  mankind  in 
all  ages.  They  are  the  records  of  the  moral 
and  religious  aspirations  and  ideals  of  all 
humanity.  The  later  stages  of  this  devel- 
opment are  not  without  their  influence 
upon  the  Scriptures  of  past  ages.  Those 
Scriptures  of  the  past  are,  in  a  very  true 
sense,  being  constantly  reinterpreted  and 
refashioned,  while  the  new  material  vastly 
extends  and  enlarges  the  entire  body  of 
literature.  Having  seen  something  of  the 
gradual  formation  of  the  canon  of  our 
accepted  biblical  writings  and  of  the  pro- 
cess by  which  it  became  set  off  and  apothe- 
osized, we  may  also  note  the  way  in  which 
it  is  reinterpreted  and  made  continuous 
with  the  ampler  Scriptures  of  the  whole 
spiritual  development  of  mankind. 

The  Bible,  like  other  vital  books,  grows 
by  constant  reinterpretation.     This  may 


yo  The  New  Orthodoxy 

be  realized  through  the  experience  of  any- 
one to  whom  it  is  a  book  of  real  religious 
value.  As  one  makes  the  Bible  his  own  by 
finding  in  it  the  passages  which  appeal  to 
him  and  suit  his  need,  he  tends  to  magnify 
those  selections  and  ignore  the  rest.  Many 
pious  souls  have  for  their  actual  working 
Bible  scarcely  more  than  the  Twenty-third 
Psalm,  the  Sermon  on  the  Mount,  the  four- 
teenth chapter  of  John,  the  thirteenth 
chapter  of  First  Corinthians,  and  the  last 
chapters  of  Revelation.  If  you  judge  by 
the  interest  he  displayed  in  the  various 
books,  the  real  Bible  of  Martin  Luther  con- 
sisted of  the  Epistles  of  Paul,  especially 
Galatians  and  Romans,  with  the  Psalms 
and  Genesis.  He  called  the  Psalms  a 
"short  Bible"  and  Genesis  almost  the 
noblest  book  of  the  Old  Testament. 
Luther  illustrates,  too,  the  fact  that  the 
Bible  not  only  is  different  for  different 
people  but  is  different  for  the  same  person 
at  various  times  in  life.  At  first  he  re- 
jected the  Revelation  of  John  entirely,  but 
later  in  life  it  appealed  to  him  more,  though 


Its  Growing  Bible  71 

never  as  a  book  of  the  first  importance. 
Luther  made  the  Old  Testament  an  alle- 
gorical elaboration  of  the  gospel  of  Christ, 
especially  as  he  found  that  gospel  in  the 
letters  of  Paul.  He  saw  the  mysteries  of 
the  Trinity  in  the  first  verses  of  the  first 
chapter  of  Genesis.  Zwingli,  another  of 
the  reformers,  unlike  Luther,  preached  the 
New  Testament  rather  than  the  Old,  and 
did  not  regard  Paul's  letters  as  the  purest 
gospel.  John  Calvin,  in  his  turn,  made  the 
Bible  a  new  book  to  his  generation  by  a 
radically  different  type  of  interpretation. 
It  is  said  that  "for  the  first  time  in  a  thou- 
sand years  he  gave  a  conspicuous  example 
of  non-allegorical  exposition."  He  even 
read  the  poetry  as  if  it  were  prose.  That 
may  have  been  because  he  Wad  been  trained 
as  a  lawyer  or  because  he  lacked  the  poetic 
temper.  He  held  the  stories  of  Genesis  to 
be  literal  history.  The  serpent  spoke  like 
a  human  being  when  Eve  was  tempted, 
lions  lay  down  with  lambs  in  the  ark  of 
Noah.  His  view  of  Christianity  was  essen- 
tially imbued  with  the  Old  Testament 


72  The  New  Orthodoxy 

standards.  To  him  the  Psalms  afforded 
adequate  knowledge  of  salvation  and  the 
Ten  Commandments  constituted  a  suffi- 
cient rule  of  life.  In  the  sixteenth  century 
he  adopted  the  theological  doctrines  of  the 
fourth  century  and  manipulated  the  texts 
of  Scripture  to  support  them. 

We  have  thus  three  Bibles,  as  one  might 
say.  First  that  of  scholasticism,  which 
obscured  the  original  Scriptures  by  the 
dogmatic  theology  of  the  times.  Its  un- 
derstanding of  the  Christian  religion  rested 
upon  the  teaching  of  the  church  fathers, 
with  no  attempt  to  get  back  to  the  original 
text.  A  second  Bible  was  that  of  many  of 
the  reformers,  of  whom  Luther  is  typical. 
He  went  back  to  the  words  of  the  text  but 
he  employed  a  highly  allegorical  interpre- 
tation. Calvin  also  took  the  Bible  itself 
as  the  basis  of  his  commentaries  and  used 
a  thoroughly  literal  method,  but  still  with 
the  point  of  view  and  the  doctrines  of  the 
fourth  century.  A  third  Bible  is  that  of 
those  modern  scholars  since  the  seven- 
teenth century  who  employed  an  unham- 


Its  Growing  Bible  73 

pered  exegesis  in  which  the  Bible  for  the 
first  time  was  studied  in  the  light  of  its 
own  history  and  by  means  of  free,  unbiased 
investigation. 

Another  means  of  realizing  how  different 
the  Scriptures  become  under  the  influence 
of  varying  presuppositions  may  be  seen  in 
the  comparison  of  the  impressions  which 
different  Protestant  sects  cherish.  To  one, 
passages  concerning  foreordination  and 
election  become  the  standards  and  con- 
trolling determinants;  to  another,  the  texts 
which  emphasize  the  freedom  of  the  gospel; 
to  another,  the  pivotal  texts  are  those  deal- 
ing with  the  second  coming  of  Christ;  to 
another,  the  miracles  of  healing  are  in  the 
foreground.  Some  magnify  withdrawal 
from  the  world,  renouncing  all  relations 
with  it  so  far  as  possible.  A  few  exalt  the 
evangelization  of  the  world,  while  some 
center  everything  upon  a  form  or  a  type 
of  organization.  From  the  use  made  of  it 
the  Bible  appears  in  one  group  to  be  su- 
premely a  volume  concerned  with  future 
reward  and  punishment,  while  to  others 


74  The  New  Orthodoxy 

it  is  made  to  be  primarily  a  treasury  of 
mystical  visions  and  forecasts  of  history. 
Thus,  in  a  sense,  each  sect  has  its  own 
Bible,  made  by  unconscious  emphasis  upon 
its  favorite  interests. 

An  explanation  is  suggested  by  this  fact 
for  the  growth  of  the  Bible  in  keeping  with 
the  spirit  of  the  age.  Gradually  the  sacred 
writings  have  been  felt  to  support  causes 
of  reform  and  progress,  abolition  of  slavery, 
woman's  freedom,  economic  justice,  and 
prohibition,  though  in  the  course  of  attain- 
ing such  reforms  the  Bible  has  also  been 
appealed  to  for  the  sanction  of  the  direct 
opposites.  The  realization  of  this  possi- 
bility of  taking  the  Bible  for  the  support  of 
widely  different  points  of  view  has  in  recent 
years  led  to  questioning  whether  there  is 
not  some  standard  afforded  by  the  Bible 
itself  and  by  the  course  of  history  which 
might  furnish  a  more  stable  and  convincing 
interpretation.  Partly  through  the  inter- 
est of  our  time  in  social  problems  and 
partly  through  a  reading  of  the  whole  of 
Scripture  in  the  light  of  its  greatest  mes- 


Its  Growing  Bible  75 

sages  a  better  point  of  view  and  method 
have  been  discovered.  The  biblical  stu- 
dent today  seeks  to  free  himself  from  the 
presuppositions  of  the  traditional  creeds 
and  from  the  bias  of  any  particular  sects. 
He  is  better  able  to  do  this  because  the 
creeds  and  doctrines  have  been  so  thor- 
oughly criticized  and  appraised  in  the  light 
of  the  historical  and  social  conditions  out 
of  which  they  arose.  The  method  of  mod- 
ern scientific  analysis  and  comparison  has 
done  its  work  in  this  field  as  elsewhere,  and 
the  result  is  the  understanding  of  the  Bible 
in  the  light  of  its  own  unfolding  moral  and 
spiritual  conceptions. 

The  Bible  thus  attained  makes  a  new 
and  profound  appeal  to  our  time,  for  it  is 
now  a  collection  of  writings  reflecting  the 
history  of  a  religiously  gifted  people  in  their 
growth  and  aspirations.  Within  that  his- 
tory the  prophetic  utterances  of  the  Old 
Testament  and  the  words  of  Jesus  mark 
the  high  peaks  from  which  all  the  rest  is 
surveyed  and  estimated.  So  aptly  and 
searchingly  do  the  social  judgments  of  the 


76  The  New  Orthodoxy 

prophets  appeal  to  the  social  conscience  of 
the  present  that  in  certain  respects  they 
seem  like  reformers  of  the  twentieth  cen- 
tury. At  the  same  time  the  more  adequate 
knowledge  of  Jesus  has  put  him  above  all 
the  prophets  and  given  him  a  new  hold 
upon  the  spiritual  imagination  and  ideal- 
ism of  the  best  minds  of  the  new  social 
order.  In  this  reconstruction  of  the  bib- 
lical material  and  perspective  the  book  has 
become  a  source  of  increasing  inspiration 
and  moral  incentive.  Some  attempts  have 
been  made  to  reprint  the  text  in  a  way  to 
bring  out  this  organization  of  it  around  the 
character  and  work  of  Jesus.  His  sayings 
have  been  underlined  in  some  editions. 
Some  have  advocated  the  re-editing  of  the 
Bible  in  still  more  radical  ways  to  make 
clear  the  central,  controlling  position  of 
Christ.  It  is  widely  felt  that  the  elimina- 
tion of  much  comparatively  irrelevant  and 
incongruous  material  would  greatly  clarify 
and  magnify  the  real  message  of  the  book 
and  the  cause  of  true  religion.  Out  of  its 
living  Word,  as  from  a  fountain  of  cleansed 


7/5  Growing  Bible  77 

and  purified  water,  would  flow  more  re- 
freshing streams.  This  Word,  like  all 
great  utterances,  is  a  constant  source  of 
new  inspiration  and  wisdom.  It  is  a  grow- 
ing and  inexhaustible  treasury  of  riches  and 
power  for  the  noblest  enterprises  of  man. 
There  is  a  third  sense  in  which  the  Bible 
is  a  growing  collection  of  sacredly  impor- 
tant writings.  Not  only  has  it  gradually 
grown  through  a  long  past  into  the  form 
in  which  it  was  fixed  by  the  Authorized 
Version  of  King  James,  and  not  only  does 
it  grow  in  its  use  by  being  interpreted  by  its 
own  highest  ideals,  but  it  grows  in  a  third 
manner.  It  expands  by  the  assimilation 
to  itself  of  the  great  religious  literature 
of  other  peoples  and  by  the  contribu*- 
tions  of  new  prophets  and  teachers  in  the 
expanding  life  of  the  church.  The  days  of 
the  old  exclusiveness  in  religion  as  in  all 
other  forms  of  life  are  happily  passing. 
Within  a  century  the  sacred  books  of  many 
races  have  become  available  through  the 
prodigious  labors  of  armies  of  scholars. 
What  Max  Mueller  did  by  the  translation 


78  The  New  Orthodoxy 

of  the  sacred  books  of  the  East  is  typical 
and  expressive  of  the  new  and  larger  spirit- 
ual inheritance  we  are  receiving.  Just  as 
a  touchstone  for  understanding  Hebrew 
and  Christian  documents  has  been  pro- 
vided in  the  enlightened  social  and  moral 
judgment  of  modern  Christendom,  so  also 
a  standard  has  been  therein  secured  for 
appreciation  of  the  best  in  the  great  litera- 
tures of  the  world.  God  has  not  left  him- 
self without  a  witness  among  any  people. 
It  has  come  to  be  regarded  as  an  immoral 
conception  of  the  divine  nature  to  attribute 
to  him  the  kind  of  favoritism  which  has 
dominated  the  church  in  the  past.  Every- 
where in  the  prayers  and  songs  and 
symbolism  of  the  Hindu,  Persian,  and 
Confucianist  writings  are  sentiments  akin 
to  those  of  our  Old  Testament  Psalms  and 
Prophets.  When  the  magnet  of  Christian 
idealism  is  brought  into  contact  with  them, 
many  great  words  rise  out  of  these  deposits 
and  cling  to  it  with  the  force  of  an  elemental 
kinship.  Deep  calleth  unto  deep  in  all  the 
vast  waters  of  man's  inner  life.  Nothing 


7*s  Growing  Bible  79 

but  an  arbitrary  limitation  of  the  canons 
of  the  various  faiths  prevents  the  recogni- 
tion of  this  fact.  As  those  limitations  are 
swept  away  in  the  fires  of  criticism  and  of 
kindling  human  brotherhood,  the  common 
elements  are  seen  and  fused  together.  As 
internationalism  grows  and  better  ac- 
quaintance is  established,  this  common 
possession  will  become  clearer  and  the 
mutual  understandings  come  into  focus. 
Thus  the  Bible  grows  by  the  inclusion  of 
kindred  works.  The  principle  of  inclusive- 
ness  is  extending  also  to  contemporary 
authors.  This  is  strikingly  illustrated  in 
the  development  of  the  hymnology  of  the 
church.  It  was  at  first  limited  to  the 
Psalms.  Gradually  there  grew  up  beside 
them  the  lyrics  of  the  living  faith.  Some- 
times these  were  the  cries  of  priest  or  monk 
or  lonely  pilgrim.  Sometimes  they  were 
the  music  of  unordained  hearts  flowing 
forth  spontaneously.  From  all  such  sources 
the  church  has  appropriated  its  hymns  and 
carols,  its  anthems  and  oratorios.  Modern 
hymnbooks  are  the  blending  in  Christian 


8o  The  New  Orthodoxy 

worship  of  harmonious  notes  from  very 
diverse  minds  and  lives.  Yet  they  are  not 
thereby  weakened,  but  made  ampler  and 
more  vital.  The  songs  of  David  are  bound 
up  with  those  of  the  Crusaders  and  Puri- 
tans and  modern  liberals.  Isaac  Watts 
and  Charles  Wesley  keep  company  in  the 
great  choir  with  Bernard  of  Clairvaux, 
Cardinal  Newman,  and  Bishop  Brooks. 
And  what  shall  be  said  of  the  presence 
here  in  an  evangelical  hymnal  of  Gilbert 
K.  Chesterton,  Algernon  C.  Swinburne, 
Goethe,  Kipling,  Oliver  Wendell  Holmes, 
Felix  Adler,  Tennyson,  and  Whittier  ? 

In  all  essential  respects  the  hymnbook  is 
the  expanded  edition  of  the  Book  of  Psalms, 
developed  and  adapted  to  the  enlarging 
vision  and  spiritual  aspiration  of  the 
church.  Fortunately  no  censorship  nor 
creedal  test  has  been  able  to  deprive  us  of 
this  rich  commingling  of  the  praises  and 
prayers  of  men  of  widely  varying  outlook. 
They  have  found  their  place  in  the  sanc- 
tuary because  of  their  faith  in  brotherhood 
and  unselfish  service.  Their  words  have 


Its  Growing  Bible  81 

already  become  integral  parts  of  our  work- 
ing Bible.  They  are  admitted  to  the  canon 
of  our  lyrical  Scriptures  and  they  bear  ap- 
pealing witness  to  the  genuine  catholicity 
of  our  moods  of  devotion. 

It  is  a  simple  question  which  this  fact 
occasions.  If  the  poems  of  these  writers 
are  thus  freely  incorporated  in  our  Bible, 
why  may  we  not  also  add  their  other 
equally  great  and  spiritual  writings  ?  Have 
not  Tennyson  and  Whittier  and  Bryant 
and  Lowell  and  Phillips  Brooks  given  us 
other  divine  gifts  of  wisdom  and  beauty  ? 
Having  opened  the  way  to  this  great  com- 
pany of  prophets  and  teachers,  how  shall 
we  again  close  the  doors  upon  them  and 
exclude  them  from  the  sacred  canon? 
And  when  they  have  entered  not  only  sing- 
ing their  songs  but  bringing  also  their  prose 
and  proverbs,  how  is  it  possible  to  separate 
from  them  playwrights  like  Shakespeare 
and  Maeterlinck,  or  scientists  like  Kepler 
and  Darwin,  or  philosophers  like  John 
Locke  and  William  James?  We  cannot 
believe  that  God  has  withdrawn  from  his 


82  The  New  Orthodoxy 

world  or  is  less  present  than  of  old.  His 
living  Word  finds  voice  now  as  in  every  age. 
The  divine  volume  enlarges  with  the  com- 
ing of  each  new  prophet.  Inspired  writers 
gather  in  growing  companies  to  lift  the 
light  of  wisdom  and  beauty  upon  the  as- 
cending path  of  man's  purer  and  more 
abundant  life. 


CHAPTER  IV 

THE  NEW  ORTHODOXY:  ITS 
CHANGING  GOAL 

Christianity  began,  if  we  may  trust  the 
impressions  gained  from  a  fair  reading  of 
the  accounts  of  Matthew,  Mark,  and  Luke, 
with  a  challenge  to  turn  from  the  hope  of 
an  immediate  establishment  of  a  visible 
Kingdom  of  God  on  earth  to  the  founding 
of  it  as  an  inner  kingdom  of  life  and  right- 
eousness. In  the  teaching  of  Jesus  one  feels 
an  urgent  appeal  on  behalf  of  friendliness 
and  generous  kindliness  between  man  and 
man  and  between  man  and  God.  The 
pure,  intimate  affection  of  lovers  is  exalted 
into  the  model  for  all  men  and  God.  Such 
a  love  impels  to  the  forgiveness  of  repeated 
offenses  and  to  reconciliation  with  enemies. 
It  leads  a  man  to  lay  down  his  very  life  for 
his  friend.  Full  of  compassion  for  others, 
it  begets  nobility  and  restraint  for  one's 
self.  Nor  does  Christianity  leave  one  with 

83 


84  The  New  Orthodoxy 

a  mere  rule  and  injunction.  It  furnishes 
vital  human  relations  in  which  these  quali- 
ties are  already  dominant.  Naturally 
family  affection  springs  into  beauty  in  all 
human  societies.  Jesus  made  that  his 
starting-point.  Father  and  son,  neighbor 
and  friend,  husband  and  wife,  brother  and 
brother — these  are  all  bound  together  by  an 
elemental  affection  which  is  also  capable 
of  extension  to  strangers  and  to  the  in- 
visible God  himself.  The  early  disciples 
confirmed  that  faith  by  clinging  to  each 
other  and  to  their  Master  with  a  loyalty 
which  was  spontaneous  and  measureless. 
By  the  charm  of  his  spirit  and  the  appeal 
of  his  hopes  they  were  made  as  one  family, 
as  one  company  of  comrades.  As  they 
gathered  about  him  on  the  shore  of  the 
lake  or  sat  with  him  in  an  upper  room  at 
the  close  of  a  meal  and  talked  of  their 
dreams,  they  felt  the  bonds  of  their  fellow- 
ship powerful  enough  to  encompass  the 
world.  It  was  the  fact  that  Christianity 
became  a  living  communion  as  well  as  a 
doctrine  which  enabled  it  to  strike  root  and 


Its  Changing  Goal  85 

to  resist  all  opposition.  So  vivid  and 
imaginative  was  that  fellowship  that  it 
could  not  be  broken  by  time  or  death. 
When  Jesus  was  no  longer  with  them  in 
physical  presence,  they  still  clung  to  him  as 
alive  in  their  hearts.  After  the  generation 
had  passed  which  knew  him  face  to  face, 
another  generation,  to  which  Paul  be- 
longed, formed  a  yet  more  intimate  and 
persuasive  comradeship  with  him.  Paul 
became  the  apostle  of  that  religion  of  love 
and  swept  through  the  cities  of  the  gentile 
world  proclaiming  it.  Everywhere  indi- 
viduals responded  and  formed  societies  or 
churches  in  which  the  dominant  personal- 
ity _was  Jesus,  who  had  died  but  who 
lived  in  the  affection  of  his  followers  and 
in  the  alluring  faith  in  his  kingdom  of 
love. 

In  the  feeling  of  those  churches,  as  with 
Jesus  himself,  this  world  is  in  close  relation 
to  the  abode  of  God  in  heaven.  To  Jesus 
in  his  reverence  and  sense  of  immediate 
providence  the  heavenly  Father  was  very 
near.  In  his  vivid  imagination  the  future 


86  The  New  Orthodoxy 

life  and  Judgment  Day  were  close  at  hand. 
Such  matters  were  not  estimated  in  terms 
of  space  and  time,  but  in  their  power  over 
the  heart  and  will.  His  followers  caught 
the  same  urgency  and  lived  in  a  universe 
whose  physical  structure  was  not  known 
and  which  had  little  meaning  for  them  ex- 
cept in  moral  and  religious  terms.  The 
heavenly  realms  were  just  beyond  the 
clouds,  through  which  in  exalted  moments 
they  seemed  to  penetrate.  There  Christ 
dwelt  at  the  right  hand  of  God,  keeping 
watch  above  his  faithful  followers,  acces- 
sible to  them  in  prayer,  and  preparing  to 
come  again  in  dazzling  glory. 

As  persecutions  arose  and  the  Second 
Coming  was  delayed,  attention  centered 
more  on  the  future  heavenly  world.  As 
the  struggles  and  sufferings  increased  for 
the  church  on  earth,  its  saints  took  com- 
fort in  the  thought  of  the  other  world. 
In  the  course  of  centuries  that  simple, 
natural  feeling  became  organized  into  a 
theology  which  magnified  that  other  world 
still  more  and  became  pessimistic  about  the 


Its  Changing  Goal  87 

present.  The  great  creations  of  the  Greek 
mind,  especially  of  Plato  and  Aristotle, 
were  employed  to  build  out  that  concep- 
tion to  vast  proportions.  The  impressive 
scholastic  philosophy  of  the  Middle  Ages 
marked  its  climax.  Then  the  discoveries 
of  modern  science  as  to  the  dimensions  of 
the  earth  and  the  heavens  added  the  im- 
measurable distances  of  astronomy  and  the 
geological  periods  of  time  to  the  picture  of 
the  universe.  It  was  in  the  last  century 
that  the  difficulties  involved  in  this  view 
became  too  acute  to  be  borne.  Men  could 
not  have  the  same  intimate  and  vivid  feel- 
ing for  a  literal  heaven  so  far  away  in  the 
future  and  so  entirely  incongruous  with  all 
the  discoveries  of  science.  If  Laplace,  a 
scientist  of  rank,  could  say,  "I  have  swept 
the  heavens  with  my  telescope  and  find  no 
God  there,"  it  is  not  surprising  that  many 
common  people  have  quickly  concluded 
that  science  has  made  short  work  of  the 
whole  fabric  of  religion  merely  by  showing 
that  it  employs  inadequate  conceptions  of 
nature. 


88  The  New  Orthodoxy 

So  much  of  the  imagery  of  Christianity 
was  bound  up  with  that  little  world  of  vis- 
ible spaces  and  appreciable  time  that  the 
definition  of  its  goal  was  naturally  set  in 
the  same  framework.  The  hope  of  the 
early  Christians  was  to  be  worthy  to  enter 
heaven  and  to  live  there  forever.  Their 
faith  scarcely  sought  to  redeem  the  whole 
world.  Roman  civilization  and  degener- 
ate Greece  and  barbaric  tribes  offered  too 
great  opposition  to  the  early  Christians, 
lowly  and  impotent  in  the  things  of  this 
world.  It  is  not  strange  that  they  con- 
cluded that  their  task  was  to  persuade  as 
many  as  possible  to  flee  this  world  and  only 
to  exist  here  as  though  already  citizens  of 
heaven.  They  could  learn  to  be  patient 
with  much  injustice.  Even  slaves  could 
bear  their  servitude  in  such  a  way  as  to 
convince  their  masters  of  the  great  superi- 
ority of  the  Christian  faith.  Some  day  all 
their  burdens  would  be  lifted  and  they 
would  find  themselves  transformed  into 
kings  and  rulers  in  a  happier  sphere.  They 
hardly  had  the  opportunity  to  know  that 


Its  Changing  Goal  89 

under  fair  conditions  their  religion  would 
furnish  them  the  most  satisfying  life  for 
this  present  world  as  well  as  for  the  here- 
after. As  it  was,  their  faith  was  often  the 
occasion  of  their  suffering  and  outward 
misery.  Many  influences  thus  conspired 
to  keep  their  eyes  fixed  on  the  other  world 
as  their  destination  and  hope.  That  ex- 
pectation for  the  future  continued  to  domi- 
nate the  church  down  to  very  recent  times, 
and  is  even  now  being  renewed  in  the  ter- 
rible strain  and  confusion  of  the  present 
war.  But  another  and  more  attractive 
goal  has  arisen  before  the  modern  Chris- 
tian. It  is  that  of  the  enrichment  and  en- 
largement of  human  life  here  and  now  in 
the  conviction  that  this  is  also  the  best 
possible  preparation  for  any  future  there 
may  be. 

This  goal  is  in  spirit  much  like  that 
which  constituted  the  earliest  ideal  of 
Jesus,  that  is,  the  social  message  of  his 
teaching.  His  kingdom  of  love  and  service 
already  had  its  foundation  in  the  natural 
affection  of  friends  and  neighbors.  If  the 


90  The  New  Orthodoxy 

leaven  of  that  gracious  faith  could  have 
spread  throughout  the  world  without  the 
persecutions  and  obstructions  which  have 
been  raised  against  it,  perhaps  the  other- 
world  goal  of  the  historic  church  would  not 
have  developed.  But  few  will  doubt  that 
it  was  better  to  have  the  dream  of  a  king- 
dom of  love  preserved  to  us  in  the  setting 
of  a  distant  future  life  than  to  lose  faith 
in  it  entirely.  Today,  however,  conditions 
have  radically  changed.  Christianity  is  no 
longer  the  religion  of  slaves  and  underlings. 
It  is  the  religion  of  the  mightiest  nations  on 
earth.  Its  representatives  possess  wealth 
and  power  and  preferment.  It  is  no  longer 
in  the  attitude  of  a  suppliant,  nor  in  that  of 
an  outsider  and  antagonist,  but  it  sits  in 
the  councils  of  state  and  of  industry  and 
of  science.  Men  who  at  least  call  them- 
selves Christians  are  among  the  leaders  in 
all  these  things. 

For  this  reason  and  for  many  others  the 
conception  of  Christianity  as  centering 
chiefly  in  another  life  is  rapidly  losing  its 
hold.  That  which  is  coming  into  favor  is 


Its  Changing  Goal  gi 

the  hope  of  Christianizing  the  social  order 
itself,  as  Professor  Rauschenbusch  has 
phrased  it.  Here  is  taken  into  account 
the  natural  goodness  and  forward-moving 
tendency  of  human  nature,  its  capacity  for 
improvement,  for  measureless  unselfish- 
ness, and  for  nobility  and  ideality  of  char- 
acter beyond  all  calculation  or  present 
imagination.  Many  comparisons  and  con- 
trasts between  the  old  and  the  new  are 
already  familiar  to  popular  thought.  To 
state  them  in  balanced  sentences  has  the 
value  of  emphasis,  though  it  is  not  without 
the  dangers  of  brevity  and  exaggeration. 

The  old  was  static;  the  new  is  dynamic. 
The  one  sought  perfection;  the  other  seeks 
improvement.  One  was  given;  the  other 
is  to  be  gradually  achieved.  The  first  was 
prescribed;  the  second  is  to  be  progres- 
sively discovered.  That  goal  depended  on 
providence  miraculously  transforming  the 
soul;  this  modern  goal  depends  upon 
learning  by  experience  as  revealed  in  the 
lives  of  great  men  in  the  past  and  in  scien- 
tific observation  and  experiment  in  the 


92  The  New  Orthodoxy 

present.  Religion  then  was  apart  from 
life,  from  the  state,  and  from  practical 
affairs;  religion  now  is  integral  with  life  in 
all  its  forms.  In  the  old  days  it  lacked 
variety  and  the  richness  of  individuality; 
in  these  days  it  is  specialized  and  made 
concrete  by  the  peculiar  duties  and  rela- 
tions given  to  each  person  by  virtue  of  his 
place  in  society.  The  old  had  a  separate 
unique  literature;  the  new  regards  all 
noble  literature  as  its  medium.  The  tradi- 
tional system  had  a  special  priesthood;  the 
present  order  magnifies  the  priesthood  of 
all  true  believers.  The  old  attitude  de- 
spised and  feared  the  natural  order  which 
it  called  the  world;  the  new  loves  the 
natural,  especially  in  its  service  of  social 
ideals.  In  the  past  there  has  been  diffi- 
culty in  using  the  fine  arts  in  religion;  at 
present  they  are  means  of  the  most  impres- 
sive symbolization  of  the  new  spiritual 
values.  For  a  long  time  Christ  has  been 
unreal  and  remote ;  at  last  he  is  becoming 
human  and  natural.  God  was  the  infinite 
veiled  Being;  he  is  now  drawing  near  even 


7/5  Changing  Goal  93 

at  the  risk  of  seeming  finite.  Transcen- 
dental mysticism  was  not  difficult  for  the 
faith  of  yesterday;  a  natural,  winsome 
mysticism  throbs  hi  the  soul  of  today. 
The  former  ideal  of  the  good  man  was 
the  saintly  soul,  serene  and  at  peace, 
withdrawn  from  the  common  struggle; 
the  present  ideal  is  of  a  man  sinewy 
and  full  of  courage,  working  in  the 
midst  of  the  human  tasks,  clear-headed 
and  good-natured,  conscious  of  far  hori- 
zons, to  which  also  his  deeds  have 
reference. 

At  last,  then,  religion  has  come  to  reckon 
with  the  fact  that  its  highest  quest  is  not 
for  a  supernatural  order  but  just  for  natural 
goodness  in  largest  and  fullest  measure. 
Through  long  centuries  it  has  nourished 
a  deep  antagonism  to  mere  morality. 
Natural  goodness,  it  was  felt,  needed  also 
a  churchly  consecration.  Religion  claimed 
to  possess  a  peculiar  sanctity  accessible 
only  through  its  ministrations.  It  is  yet 
widely  viewed  hi  that  light.  Professor 
Coe,  who  has  a  right  to  speak  on  this 


94  The  New  Orthodoxy 

subject  both  as  a  psychologist  and  as  a 
Christian,  says: 

Some  among  us  are  confused,  timid,  and  non- 
committal because  they  do  not  clearly  see  how 
being  religious  is  different  from  simply  living  a 
good  life.  Others  are  waiting  for  some  special, 
phenomenal  revelation  which  shall  convey  a  mes- 
sage not  otherwise  obtainable.  All  such  persons 
are  like  the  bird  and  the  fish  in  the  poem— 

"Oh,  where  is  the  sea?"  cried  the  fish;  and 
"Oh,  where  is  the  air?"  cried  the  bird. 

Let  such  men  know  that  the  religious  experience 
is  not  something  different  from  living  a  good  life, 
but  just  living  it  more  abundantly. 

The  task  of  religion,  then,  is  not  that  of  cul- 
tivating a  life  apart  from  natural  interests 
and  practical  concerns,  but  is  rather  the 
pursuit  of  such  normal  ideals  with  religious 
faith  and  enthusiasm.  When  a  person  de- 
votes himself  to  any  cause  with  zeal  and 
fidelity,  it  is  said  of  him  that  he  makes  that 
cause  his  religion  or  he  works  at  it  reli- 
giously. This  is  one  of  the  simplest  ways 
of  understanding  religion.  It  is  an  ex- 
traordinary enthusiasm  for  a  cause.  As  a 


Its  Changing  Goal  95 

recent  writer  puts  it,  "Mere  morality  is 
prosaic,  cool,  exact;  religion  is  imaginative, 
emotional,  exaggerated."  He  adds,  "Any 
man  deserves  to  be  called  religious  by 
whom  an  ideal  of  life  has  been  so  heartily 
and  loyally  espoused  that  it  lifts  him,  in 
some  measure,  above  the  power  of  temp- 
tation to  seduce  or  of  ill  fortune  to  de- 
press." Accordingly  the  highest  type  of 
religion  today  is  that  which  has  the  finest 
devotion  to  the  most  adequate  ideal  of  life. 
Many  sects  display  the  most  intense  emo- 
tional interest  in  small  or  partial  programs 
of  living.  They  are  devoted  to  health,  or 
to  socialism,  or  to  rescue  work  hi  the  slums, 
or  to  the  millennial  dawn,  or  to  individual 
salvation.  It  is  difficult  to  secure  allegi- 
ance to  a  comprehensive  program,  which 
is  the  very  thing  needed.  This  is  one  rea- 
son for  a  religious  organization  such  as  the 
church.  It  enables  each  member  to  have 
the  sense  of  participating  in  a  many-sided 
agency  the  details  of  which  he  may  not  be 
able  to  know  individually  but  which  are 
known  and  cared  for  by  persons  in  whose 


g6  The  New  Orthodoxy 

judgment  and  fidelity  he  is  able  to  confide. 
In  the  support  of  the  institution  he  is  aid- 
ing many  causes  and  participating  in  a 
fuller  life  than  is  possible  without  such  an 
organization.  He  is  also  in  turn  subject- 
ing himself  to  the  larger  relations  which  a 
social  group  makes  possible.  By  means  of 
these  he  is  carried  along  through  the  inter- 
action of  many  social  currents  into  larger 
problems  and  stimulated  to  find  their  solu- 
tion. The  religious  society  is  like  the 
larger  community  of  which  it  is  a  part.  It 
makes  it  possible  for  an  individual  to 
specialize  in  his  own  work  and  yet  share  in 
the  common,  comprehensive  enterprise. 
Just  as  plasterers  and  painters  can  exist 
only  in  a  society  where  there  are  carpen- 
ters, brickmasons,  truck-drivers,  and  ac- 
countants, so  a  man  who  is  occupied  with 
the  study  of  the  Greek  language  needs  a 
society  where  others  specialize  in  cooking, 
tailoring,  engineering,  and  other  things. 
If  he  recognizes  this  fact  and  realizes  that 
the  other  activities  are  as  important  as  his 
own,  and  if  he  maintains  respect  and  neigh- 


Its  Changing  Goal  97 

borliness  toward  the  persons  in  those  other 
pursuits,  then  he  is  so  far  religious.  If  he 
views  his  own  labor  as  the  only  kind  worth 
while,  or  as  of  supreme  importance,  then  he 
is  selfish.  If  he  thinks  of  himself  as  help- 
ing in  his  sphere  to  the  best  of  his  ability  to 
add  to  the  intelligence  and  beauty  and 
efficiency  of  the  life  of  a  great  social  order, 
he  is  religious. 

The  religious  goal  may  thus  be  seen  in 
the  way  a  man  takes  himself  and  his  work. 
It  may  be  said  that  there  is  but  one  sub- 
stance or  material  or  function  in  what  we 
call  life  and  that  everything  depends  on  the 
way  we  use  it.  Each  normal  person  labors, 
eats,  loves,  plays,  wonders,  suffers,  and 
hopes.  Whether  he  is  a  villain  or  a  saint 
is  determined  by  the  attitude  in  which  he 
does  these  things.  To  be  a  Christian  is  to 
do  them  generously,  with  sympathy  and 
intelligence  for  the  ideal  human  value  in- 
volved. This  may  be  illustrated  in  con- 
nection with  simple  acts,  such  as  building 
a  fire  in  a  grate,  running  a  business,  or  ex- 
periencing a  friendship.  To  build  a  fire  for 


gS  The  New  Orthodoxy 

warmth  on  a  cold  day  might  be  called  a 
practical  act.  To  do  so  when  the  house  is 
already  warm  in  order  to  enjoy  the  crack- 
ling flames  might  illustrate  the  aesthetic 
interest.  To  kindle  the  fire  to  test  the 
chimney  or  to  make  experiments  with  fuel 
is  the  scientific  way  of  doing  things.  To 
make  the  fire  for  a  sick  child  and  to  feel  in 
doing  so  sympathy  and  human  interest  for 
the  child  and  the  home  and  the  outreach- 
ing  significance  of  its  life  is  to  give  the  act 
of  building  the  fire  a  religious  quality.  A 
business  undertaking,  such  as  conducting 
a  store,  may  likewise  be  carried  on  in  a 
variety  of  ways.  The  outward  acts  may  be 
practically  the  same.  At  least  to  conduct 
a  store  it  is  necessary  to  purchase  goods, 
to  display  them,  to  deal  with  customers, 
to  employ  labor,  and  to  pay  taxes.  If  a 
man  simply  says,  "Business  is  business," 
and  works  primarily  to  develop  the  largest 
trade  possible  and  to  clear  the  most  profits, 
then  we  call  him  practical.  Obviously  it  is 
not  far  from  that  attitude  to  one  of  hard- 
ness and  selfishness  and  immorality.  On 


Its  Changing  Goal  99 

the  other  hand,  the  merchant  may  realize 
that  the  public  is  best  served  by  a  store 
which  looks  out  for  fair  profits,  thereby 
being  able  to  carry  a  larger  stock  and  to 
meet  the  exigencies  of  trade  in  the  most 
facile  and  accommodating  manner.  In  so 
far  as  all  transactions  are  open  and  fair,  the 
community  well  served,  and  the  labor 
properly  dealt  with,  the  store  is  a  moral  in- 
stitution. But  the  merchant  may  take 
particular  pride  in  his  building,  in  his 
window  displays,  in  the  trimness  of  his 
delivery  wagons,  in  the  general  air  of  refine- 
ment and  taste  throughout  his  system.  In 
so  far  he  reveals  an  aesthetic  interest. 
Now  it  is  conceivable  that  the  merchant 
is  also  concerned  about  improving  the 
wages  and  working  conditions  of  his  em- 
ployees, in  co-operating  with  other  mer- 
chants in  limiting  hours  of  business,  in 
associating  with  other  citizens  to  improve 
the  streets,  the  schools,  the  living  condi- 
tions of  the  community.  He  is  willing  to 
regard  his  business  as  a  factor  in  the  larger 
interests  of  his  fellow-men  and  to  use  some 


ioo  The  New  Orthodoxy 

of  his  profits  to  bring  lecturers  and  enter- 
tainers to  the  city.  He  will  use  some  of 
his  earnings  to  educate  a  worthy  boy  he 
knows  and  let  the  boy  decide  for  himself 
later  what  he  will  do  in  the  world.  At  last, 
in  his  moments  of  deepest  reflection,  the 
merchant  acknowledges  that  what  he  has 
accomplished  has  been  through  combina- 
tions of  events  and  the  wills  of  other  per- 
sons in  a  most  complex  and  far-reaching 
manner.  His  own  part  has  been  real 
enough  and  important;  but  in  relation  to 
the  whole  system  in  which  he  acts  he  is  but 
one  factor,  dependent  and  bound  up  with 
the  whole  system  of  society,  its  order,  com- 
munication, good-will,  and  fidelity.  The 
forces  of  nature  also  enter  into  his  achieve- 
ments. Trade  is  related  to  crops,  and 
crops  to  sun  and  rain  and  mellow  autumn. 
If  he  is  a  man  as  well  as  a  merchant,  a  per- 
son as  much  as  an  accountant,  will  he  not 
here  feel  some  awe  and  reverence  for  the 
life  which  encompasses  him,  without  whose 
co-operation  he  is  lost  and  by  whose  sup- 
port he  gathers  all  his  gains  ?  This  feeling 


Its  Changing  Goal  101 

is  for  natural  human  beings  a  sense  of  wider 
personal  relations,  of  an  intimate  and  vital 
social  fellowship,  of  devout  and  reverent 
consciousness  of  God.  When  a  man  is  able 
now  and  then  to  survey  his  business  in  that 
perspective  and  in  that  mood,  he  is  reli- 
gious. 

Friendship,  too,  may  be  practical  and 
aesthetic,  and  moral  and  religious.  It  may 
perhaps  be  any  one  of  the  others  and  not  be 
religious,  though  that  is  doubtful;  but  it  is 
certain  that  it  cannot  be  religious  in  the 
truest  measure  without  also  being  useful 
and  beautiful  and  noble. 

What,  then,  is  the  goal  of  religion  ?  Not 
escape  from  the  natural  relations,  nor  the 
repetition  of  prayers  and  creeds,  nor  the 
cultivation  of  communion  with  ideal  beings 
of  the  past  or  of  celestial  realms.  Any  of 
these  may  be  necessary  at  times,  but  they 
are  only  parts  of  a  larger  whole,  means  to 
a  more  inclusive  end.  The  goal  of  reli- 
gion is  the  fulfilment  of  the  normal  duties 
and  opportunities  of  life  as  we  experi- 
ence it,  with  sympathy  and  idealism 


io2  The  New  Orthodoxy 

and  passionately  unselfish  devotion.  This 
means  that  we  live  the  life  of  our  race,  eat- 
ing and  loving,  toiling  and  playing,  learning 
and  teaching,  watching  and  praying,  ad- 
venturing and  discovering,  suffering  and 
repenting,  for  our  children  and  our  neigh- 
bors, for  our  country  and  for  humanity, 
for  the  whole  dear  world  and  God.  If  we 
build  churches,  they  are  way  stations  and 
not  terminals.  If  we  picture  new  Jerusa- 
lems,  it  is  not  to  predetermine  for  all  time 
the  city  of  our  hearts'  desire  but  to  visu- 
alize our  hopes  and  to  take  our  bearings 
while  we  journey.  We  are  well  aware  that 
Jerusalem  must  be  retaken  and  rebuilt  over 
and  over  again  in  the  wars  of  God.  The 
modern  spirit  glories  in  the  vision  of  an  in- 
definitely great  future  in  which  through  the 
same  process  of  growth  and  renewal  by 
which  we  live  now  we  may  go  on  to  greater 
and  nobler  attainments. 

We  are  therefore  confronted  with  the 
spectacle  of  life  whose  goal  is  not  once  for 
all  set  up  and  fixed,  but  which  is  put  for- 
ward and  lifted  higher  as  we  labor  and 


Its  Changing  Goal  103 

aspire.  The  dream  of  the  present  is  of 
a  free  society  whose  chief  aim  shall  be 
to  furnish  to  all  its  members  the  greatest 
possible  power  of  intelligence,  and  will, 
and  sympathy,  and  capacity  for  social 
co-operation  and  progress.  That  requires 
intelligence  and  the  constant  improvement 
of  popular  education.  It  demands  a 
wholesome  and  stimulating  social  atmos- 
phere of  freest  interaction  and  emulation 
for  the  energizing  of  the  will.  It  means 
the  closest  comradeship  and  the  finest 
sympathetic  imagination,  such  as  is  now 
momentarily  realized  in  times  of  crises, 
as  in  the  Halifax  disaster  and  in  the  reve- 
lations of  unselfish  devotion  in  the  trenches 
of  the  Great  War. 

The  function  of  the  church  is  to  make 
that  ideal  of  a  free  and  growing  brother- 
hood of  all  mankind  real  to  the  experience 
and  to  the  imagination  of  men.  After  all 
this  is  not  so  different  from  that  which  it 
has  done  for  the  souls  of  men  in  the  past. 
Certainly  Jesus  summoned  his  followers 
into  a  companionship  of  adventure  and 


104  The  New  Orthodoxy 

faith  on  behalf  of  fuller  friendship  and 
deeper  love.  It  may  be  said  that  the 
course  of  thought  since  the  seventeenth 
century  has  been  the  elaboration  of  the 
value  of  a  society  in  which  the  individual 
soul  could  come  to  its  own  in  a  kingdom  of 
good- will.  And  surely  modern  social  re- 
formers would  be  satisfied  if  they  could  feel 
that  adequate  progress  were  being  made  in 
the  permeation  of  the  race  with  the  kind- 
liness and  idealism  of  Jesus.  That  would 
mean  the  cultivation  of  science  to  under- 
stand what  love  really  requires  us  to  do. 
It  would  mean  better  organization  of  the 
state  to  make  the  ideals  effective.  It 
would  mean  better  care  of  childhood,  in 
whose  plastic  soul  lie  all  the  possibilities  of 
realizing  the  most  wonderful  dreams  of  the 
sages  and  prophets  yet  to  be.  We  cannot 
ignore  the  past  nor  can  we  be  slaves  to  it. 
No  more  can  we  merely  trust  everything 
to  the  future;  we  must  anticipate  it  and 
live  in  it  as  well  as  in  the  present. 

We  are  more  convinced  than  we  were 
before  the  war  began  that  an  international 


Its  Changing  Goal  105 

society  and  brotherhood  is  not  only  pos- 
sible but  necessary  to  the  onward  move- 
ment of  the  life  of  every  individual  of  us. 
Whether  we  are  conscious  of  it  or  not,  the 
state  of  men  on  the  other  side  of  the  world 
affects  the  welfare  of  every  one  of  us.  It 
has  been  religion  more  than  trade  or  diplo- 
macy or  literature  which  has  realized  this 
fact  and  has  acted  accordingly  by  send- 
ing heralds  of  brotherhood  literally  without 
purse  or  scrip  into  the  uttermost  parts  of 
the  earth.  By  their  labors  every  recurring 
Christmas  time,  in  spite  of  war,  witnesses 
to  the  widespreading  ideal  of  brotherhood 
increasing  among  men.  The  fact  that  the 
war  itself  is  felt  to  be  so  tragic,  so  unspeak- 
ably terrible,  is  due  in  no  small  degree  to 
the  fact  that  it  violates  this  sacred  hope 
and  faith  which  were  already  rising  to  con- 
sciousness among  socialists  and  laborers  as 
well  as  among  philosophers  and  mission- 
aries. 

Man  has  climbed  far  from  the  depth  of 
his  savagery  and  isolation.  He  will  not 
forfeit  the  heights  he  has  gained,  nor  those 


io6  The  New  Orthodoxy 

beyond,  upon  which  his  eager  vision  opens. 
He  has  heard  the  Christmas  bells  of  the 
spirit,  and  he  wakes  to  answer  them  with 
passionate  and  boundless  good-will. 

Hark!  the  bells  ringing! 

In  the  deep  night,  in  the  depth  of  the  winter  of 

Man, 
Lo!  once  more  the  son  is  born. 

O  age-long,  not  in  Nazareth  alone, 

Nor  now  today — but  through  all  ages  of  the 

past, 

The  bells  of  Christmas  ringing: 
The  Savior-music  like  a  dream  from  heaven 
Touching  the  slumbering  heart. 

Sweet  promise  which  the  people  with  unerring 

instinct  cling  to! 

O  winter  sun  arising  never  more  to  set! 
O  Nature  slowly  changing,  slow  transforming 

to  the  hearts  of  men, 
Shrine  of  the  soul,  shrine  of  the  new-born  god — 

of  Man  himself. 


CHAPTER  V 

THE  NEW  ORTHODOXY:  ITS 
NEW  DRAMA 

If  the  significance  of  particular  features 
of  the  religious  life  is  to  be  appreciated,  they 
need  to  be  seen  and  felt  in  relation  to  the 
total  living  process  in  which  they  appear. 
Any  religion  remote  from  one's  own  is 
likely  to  seem  to  consist  of  disconnected 
factors  without  life  or  meaning.  On  this 
account  primitive  religions  have  appeared 
as  the  most  grotesque  and  senseless  mum- 
mery. Interpreters  generally  fail  to  per- 
ceive the  practical  ends  and  intense  hopes 
which  dominate  the  ceremonials  even  of 
the  lowest  savages  and  the  most  alien 
pagans.  They  see  only  the  weird  cos- 
tumes, the  painted  bodies,  the  blood  and 
ochre  markings  on  the  ground,  the  simple 
sticks  and  stones,  the  smoldering  fire;  they 
hear  through  the  darkness  the  moaning, 
shrieking,  and  chanting,  the  fearful  noise 
107 


io8  The  New  Orthodoxy 

of  the  bull-roarers,  and  at  intervals  the 
recital  of  fanciful  myths  and  strange 
prayers.  Readers  often  turn  away  from 
the  accounts  of  the  Indian  snake  dances 
or  of  the  Australian  initiation  ceremonies 
with  disgust  and  pity.  They  do  not  realize 
what  these  things  really  mean  to  the  par- 
ticipants. The  snakes  are  the  rain  gods, 
and  the  gifts  of  nature  depend  upon  them. 
The  Australians  are  infusing  into  the  new 
generation  the  literal  blood  and  substance 
of  their  ancestors.  They  are  reverently 
endeavoring  to  guarantee  for  the  future  the 
.maintenance  of  the  best  things  gained  in 
the  past.  They  feel  themselves  to  be  en 
rapport  with  the  brave,  wise  men  of  the 
elder  days  and  with  the  gods  who  rule  the 
world.  They  are  not  engaged  in  make- 
believe,  but  are  sharing  in  the  life-and- 
death  struggle  to  insure  the  welfare  and 
power  of  the  tribe.  Every  costume  and 
decoration,  every  stick  and  weapon  em- 
ployed, every  cry  and  chant,  has  a  vital 
place  and  part  in  the  momentous  under- 
taking. 


Its  New  Drama  109 

In  principle  it  is  the  same  with  modern 
religion.  Its  parts  have  to  be  seen  fused 
in  the  warm,  living  action  of  a  great  enter- 
prise in  order  to  be  understood.  The  cos- 
tume of  a  priest,  like  the  uniform  of  a 
soldier,  implies  many  things,  and,  most  of 
all,  a  profound  and  tragic  cause  in  which  he 
is  engaged.  That  cause  is  reflected  also  in 
the  attitudes  characteristic  of  all  religious 
persons.  Their  reverence  and  love  and 
faith  are  all  bound  up  with  the  goal  they 
are  striving  to  attain.  The  same  is  true  of 
the  Bible.  It  can  be  appreciated  only  in 
reference  to  the  action  and  movement  of 
the  events  out  of  which  its  words  have 
come.  It  gives  fragmentary  and  imper- 
fect pictures  of  the  hopes  and  longings  of 
a  people  in  their  struggle  to  realize  their 
national  and  cultural  ideals.  Those  ideals 
were  symbolized  for  them  in  the  majestic 
figure  of  their  God,  moving  before  them  as 
a  pillar  of  cloud  by  day  and  a  pillar  of  fire 
by  night.  Riding  upon  the  thundercloud, 
flashing  in  the  lightnings,  and  sending  his 
voice  pealing  among  the  mountain  tops,  he 


no  The  New  Orthodoxy 

was  the  embodiment  of  the  energy  and 
power  with  which  they  felt  themselves  im- 
pelled forward  in  conquest  and  in  moral 
aspiration.  God  cannot  be  understood 
apart  from  his  people,  with  whose  will  and 
purpose  he  is  one.  Neither  can  a  people 
be  understood  without  reference  to  their 
God.  The  God  of  any  people  may  be  seen 
in  their  purpose,  direction,  and  moral 
idealism.  Without  a  people  God  becomes 
vague,  weak,  easily  disbelieved,  and 
doubted.  God  cannot  be  known  outside 
of  history  and  living  experience.  All  at- 
tempts to  discover  him  as  a  fact  among 
the  facts  of  nature  have  failed.  No  ab- 
stract arguments  can  demonstrate  his 
being;  but  wherever  you  plunge  into  the 
red  stream  of  history  and  enter  the  pulsing 
life  of  actual  human  beings  bound  to- 
gether in  great  societies,  there  you  find 
the  name  and  will  and  power  of  God. 

It  is  the  drama  of  the  religious  life,  then, 
which  furnishes  the  explanation  of  all  the 
factors  which  appear  in  it — its  attitudes, 
its  dramatis  personae,  its  growing  Bible, 


Its  New  Drama  in 

and  its  changing  goal.  But  this  drama  is 
not  a  stage  play.  It  is  not  an  afternoon's 
entertainment.  It  is  not  the  second- 
hand re-enactment  of  a  tragedy  which  has 
been  once  accomplished.  It  is  the  living 
action  of  real  life  in  the  natural  setting  of 
land  and  sea,  streets  and  firesides,  shops 
and  battlefields.  It  is  a  drama  in  which 
there  are  no  professional  actors,  but  where 
every  man  takes  his  role  in  the  action  by 
virtue  of  his  nature  and  his  relation  to  his 
fellows.  There  is  no  sharp  line  between 
the  audience  and  the  performers.  Rather, 
in  the  ceaseless  movement  of  events,  indi- 
viduals arise  in  their  places  and  perform 
their  tasks.  Some  eyes  are  fixed  upon 
them  where  they  stand.  At  the  same  time 
other  persons  are  elsewhere  focusing  atten- 
tion. Even  the  dead  do  not  withdraw 
from  the  drama.  Sometimes  they  con- 
tinue to  arrest  the  hurrying  multitudes 
more  than  do  any  living  kings  or  warriors. 
Their  voices  seem  to  grow  clearer,  their 
summons  more  urgent,  as  the  perspective 
in  which  they  appear  lengthens. 


ii2  The  New  Orthodoxy 

Each  person  is  thus  both  actor  and  ob- 
server. The  range  of  his  action  is  far 
larger  than  the  field  of  his  vision.  Many 
times  in  his  life  he  is  called  upon,  not  to 
speak  lines  which  he  has  learned  for  the 
occasion,  but  to  improvise  actions  and 
words  suited  to  situations  which  have 
never  existed  before  in  all  the  world.  Upon 
his  decision  turns  the  fate  of  the  whole  act 
and,  it  may  be,  of  the  entire  drama.  Such 
momentous  events  in  your  personal  life 
were  those  in  which  you  determined  to  en- 
ter your  profession,  or  to  move  to  this  city, 
or  to  this  neighborhood,  or  to  vote  the 
democratic  ticket,  or  to  join  the  church. 
Of  the  same  kind,  but  vaster  in  results, 
were  the  signing  of  the  Magna  Charta  to 
guarantee  the  liberties  of  England,  the 
Declaration  of  Independence  by  the  Ameri- 
can colonies,  the  Emancipation  Proclama- 
tion by  Abraham  Lincoln,  and  the  declara- 
tion of  war  by  each  of  the  responsible 
representatives  of  their  governments  in  the 
present  world-war.  These  were  crucial 
points  in  the  life  of  mankind.  They  were 


Its  New  Drama  1 13 

of  the  original,  elemental  action,  which 
constitutes  the  fundamental  and  essential 
drama  of  human  life.  These  scenes  are 
enacted  over  and  over  again  by  the  play- 
actors, and  something  of  the  original  force 
and  meaning  is  felt  each  time.  Indeed,  the 
make-believe  drama  has  its  right  to  exist 
and  its  value  for  us  in  the  degree  to  which 
it  is  able  to  reinstate  for  all  who  behold  it 
the  sense  of  a  mighty  crisis  to  be  resolved 
by  the  deeds  of  the  individuals  present  on 
the  stage.  For  the  time  being  the  actors 
become  the  historical  characters  respon- 
sible for  the  course  of  events,  and  the  audi- 
ence enter  into  the  movement  of  the  play, 
approving  the  hero  and  manifesting  indig- 
nation against  his  enemies.  The  drama  of 
the  theater  has  in  this  way  a  vital  relation 
to  the  actual  drama  of  daily  life.  When 
the  spectators  have  witnessed  a  stirring 
representation  of  the  battles  of  Washing- 
ton's army  in  our  war  for  independ- 
ence, they  form  new  resolutions  to  buy 
liberty  bonds  or  to  aid  in  economizing 
food. 


ii4  The  New  Orthodoxy 

The  drama  of  the  religious  life  is  of  the 
original,  elemental  kind.  Only  when  it 
has  lost  touch  with  reality  does  it  take  on 
the  manner  of  a  spectacle.  So  long  as  it 
is  the  direct  and  spontaneous  expression  of 
deep  needs  and  true  satisfaction  its  cere- 
monials are  integral  parts  of  life  and  are 
just  as  essential  as  the  most  practical  ac- 
tivities. That  was  true  of  the  elaborate 
ceremonials  of  the  church  in  the  Middle 
Ages.  They  were  the  very  means  of  life 
to  the  souls  of  men.  They  were  not  exter- 
nal or  artificial  or  in  need  of  defense.  By 
the  elaborate  celebration  of  the  Mass  men 
literally  obliterated  their  sins  and  received 
in  the  Eucharist  the  actual  body  of  God. 
In  that  miracle  of  grace  was  constantly 
enacted  the  drama  of  the  divine  love. 
Every  feature  of  the  worship  was  eloquent 
with  that  one  fact.  The  cathedral  itself 
was  the  architectural  expression  of  the 
surpassing  grandeur  of  the  supersensible 
world.  Its  vast  arches  and  high-flung 
spires  towered  over  man's  little  form  with 
the  distances  and  glory  of  that  other  realm 


7/5  New  Drama  115 

which  they  symbolized.  Whoever  has 
stood  in  the  cathedral  at  Milan  or  in 
St.  Peter's  at  Rome  cannot  efface  the  mem- 
ory of  the  impression  of  vastness  and  mag- 
nificence, as  if  all  the  devices  of  wonderful 
art  had  been  employed  to  teach  man  his 
littleness  and  transiency  in  comparison 
with  the  infinite  and  eternal  things  above 
him.  All  other  features  of  the  ritual  were 
in  keeping  with  this — the  paintings  of 
clouds  and  cherubim  in  the  lofty  ceilings, 
the  sculptured  forms  of  the  transfigured 
saints,  high  up  on  the  capitals  of  the  giant 
pillars,  the  echoing  tones  of  the  organ  and 
the  ethereal  voices  of  boy  choirs,  the  slowly 
intoned  prayers  in  an  archaic  tongue,  and 
the  bent,  suppliant  posture  of  the  wor- 
shipers. They  were  passive  and  depend- 
ent recipients  of  favors  from  the  world 
above.  They  were  in  search  of  nothing 
which  they  could  merit,  nor  of  anything 
they  could  create  for  themselves.  None 
but  divine  power  and  infinite  condescension 
could  reach  their  need  and  lift  them  up. 
But  so  long  as  all  believed  in  that  power 


u6  The  New  Orthodoxy 

and  that  measureless  grace  of  God  be- 
stowed upon  man  through  those  channels 
such  rituals  and  ceremonials  were  of  the 
very  essence  of  reality.  Only  with  the  rise 
of  different  conceptions  of  human  nature 
have  these  rituals  begun  to  appear  as  the 
survivals  of  a  passing  world. 

Since  man  has  learned  to  assert  himself 
he  has  found  himself  stronger  and  stronger. 
He  is  no  longer  a  passive  suppliant,  help- 
less in  a  predetermined  universe.  Instead 
of  accepting  pestilence  and  misfortune  as 
the  visitations  of  an  all-wise  God  who  sent 
them  for  man's  discipline,  he  has  set  about 
the  task  of  making  such  things  impossible. 
The  natural  causes  of  many  diseases  have 
been  found,  and  those  plagues  have  been 
eradicated.  Encouraged  by  past  success, 
new  and  vaster  enterprises  are  under  way 
to  gain  control  of  larger  and  more  impor- 
tant areas  of  life  through  natural  science. 
Therefore  the  older  drama  of  religion  has 
become  a  beautiful  work  of  the  past.  For 
the  modern  man,  standing  erect  in  his  pride 
of  power,  the  old  ceremonial  full  of  pas- 


7/5  New  Drama  117 

sivity  and  surrender  is  the  symbol  of  a 
dying  age.  He  may  contemplate  it  with 
a  certain  admiration  and  reverence,  but  he 
cannot  believe  in  it  nor  endeavor  to  revive 
it.  It  has  become  a  drama  in  the  sense  of 
being  something  consciously  copied  in 
order  that,  through  the  momentary  illu- 
sion of  its  reality,  it  may  be  entered  into 
for  appreciation  and  for  the  purpose  of 
knowing  more  adequately  what  we  have 
left  behind.  Like  all  things  from  which 
the  life  has  fjed,  that  older  drama  is  no 
longer  warm  and  vibrant.  Its  constituents 
have  fallen  apart.  One  sees  fragments  of 
its  architecture  in  secular  buildings,  its 
painting  and  sculpture  exhibited  in  public 
displays,  its  doctrines  unbelievable,  and  its 
authority  vanished. 

Nowhere  is  the  change  more  apparent 
than  in  the  feeling  men  have  about  the  very 
act  and  attitude  of  worship.  The  idea  of 
worship  as  mere  praise  and  adulation  of 
the  Creator  has  become  almost  irreverent. 
God  has  come  to  be  regarded  in  so  imma- 
nent and  dynamic  a  way  that  it  seems 


u8  The  New  Orthodoxy 

quite  inconsistent  to  conceive  him  as 
honored  and  gratified  by  adoration  and 
flattery,  such  as  were  formerly  given  to 
tyrants  and  despots.  Perhaps  here  is  to 
be  found  the  source  of  much  indifference 
to  the  churches.  Men  have  given  up  the 
forms  and  words  of  worship  in  their  inter- 
course with  each  other  and  even  with  their 
superiors.  In  our  democracies  men  do  not 
bow  themselves  to  the  ground  nor  pros- 
trate themselves  even  before  the  mightiest 
individuals.  With  open  eyes  and  confident 
minds  they  contend  together,  seek  to  co- 
operate, and  strive  to  be  guided  by  experi- 
ence and  not  by  authority.  They  do  not 
care  for  a  drama  on  Sunday  which  is  too 
completely  contrasted  with  the  drama  in 
which  they  live  all  the  week.  What  they 
do  crave  is  some  powerful  means  of  dis- 
covering the  fuller  meaning  and  larger 
possibilities  of  their  common  life. 

The  old  drama  moved  between  the  crea- 
tion of  the  world  and  the  Day  of  Judgment. 
Its  origin  lay  in  the  inscrutable  counsels  of 
divine  wisdom.  All  of  the  figures  which 


Its  New  Drama  119 

moved  upon  its  stage  were  the  puppets  of 
the  omnipotent  Will.  Their  acts,  from  the 
first  deed  of  rebellion,  which  brought  sin 
and  its  infinite  curse,  to  their  acceptance  of 
the  proffered  salvation,  were  foreordained 
and  once  for  all  decreed.  Even  the  Re- 
deemer, through  whom  the  bondage  was 
broken,  did  not  act  in  his  own  right  but  was 
sent  into  the  world  and  given  up  to  bitter 
pain  and  death  for  man's  deliverance.  To 
the  end  of  time  the  efficacy  of  his  atone- 
ment was  to  remain  a  fathomless  mystery, 
for  not  until  the  grand  assize  at  the  great 
Day  of  the  Lord  could  it  be  known  who  are 
worthy  of  blessing  and  who  deserve  the 
curse.  The  services  of  religion,  under  that 
conception,  have  been  largely  devoted  to 
cultivating  a  sense  of  humility  and  of  un- 
worthiness  in  the  worshiper  and  an  atti- 
tude of  resignation  for  any  fate  which  may 
befall! 

The  new  drama  starts  with  man's  life  on 
the  earth  and  with  the  upward  and  forward 
tendency  within  it.  It  shows,  from  the 
earliest  records,  efforts  toward  something 


120  The  New  Orthodoxy 

better  and  loftier.  Everywhere  are  temples 
and  tombs  and  the  sign  of  uplifted  hands. 
In  and  around  these  have  flowed  the  in- 
tense desires  and  aspirations  of  the  unsatis- 
fied soul  of  man,  restless  in  his  age-long 
quest.  Often  mistaken  as  to  the  source  of 
his  success,  always  burdened  with  supersti- 
tions and  misconceptions  of  himself  and 
his  world,  nevertheless  he  has  continued  to 
follow  the  gleam.  At  last  he  is  finding  out 
the  immediate  causes  of  many  of  his  bless- 
ings and  his  ills.  With  a  new  joy  and  cour- 
age in  his  discovery  of  scientific  knowledge 
and  power  he  is  preparing  for  still  greater 
mastery  and  progress.  With  all  of  his  old 
reverence  for  life  and  with  greater  zest  he 
is  not  merely  seeking  a  city  which  hath 
foundations.  He  is  building  it.  He  does 
not  just  sit  silently  listening  in  his  worship, 
but  he  wrestles  with  God  and,  like  Jacob  of 
old,  exacts  his  blessing.  The  drama  which 
he  is  enacting  is  one  of  intense  activity  and 
profound  thoughtfulness.  This  has  quite 
changed  the  meaning  of  worship.  It  is 
now  no  longer  the  contemplation  of  a  series 


Its  New  Drama  121 

of  celestial  events  in  which  man  beholds 
himself  the  passive  recipient  of  divine  favor 
or  wrath.  It  is  rather  the  survey  of  the 
long  path  of  past  experience  and  the  mem- 
ory of  the  heroic  actors  who  have  toiled 
there  and  the  anticipation  of  the  further 
extension  of  that  path  by  labor,  intelli- 
gence, and  unselfish  devotion.  Through  it 
all  run  the  realization  of  the  magnitude  of 
the  forces  involved,  the  incalculably  great 
scale  of  the  events  transpiring,  and  the 
tragic  character  of  the  smallest  word  and 
deed.  It  is  this  richness  and  inexhaustible 
nature  of  experience  which  constitutes  its 
divine  quality.  But  the  divine  is  no  more 
separate  and  aloof.  It  is  within  and  or- 
ganic with  the  human.  We  surrender  the 
old  contrast  of  the  human  and  the  divine, 
not  by  eliminating  either  one  to  retain  the 
other,  but  by  insisting  that  life  as  we  find 
it  has  in  it  the  warmth  and  intimacy  of  the 
human  and  also  the  dynamic  and  the  out- 
reach of  the  divine.  Life  is  in  this  respect 
all  of  a  piece,  varied  and  intricate,  but 
undivided. 


122  The  New  Orthodoxy 

In  the  drama  of  the  religious  life  as  thus 
conceived  the  congregation  is  the  unit  of 
action  and  expression.  Not  the  public  serv- 
ice, so  largely  the  function  of  the  minister 
and  the  choir,  but  the  less  formal  meetings 
of  the  church  for  counsel  and  conference 
illustrate  it  best.  The  local  church  is  a 
kind  of  epitome  of  the  whole  social  order. 
It  undertakes  to  guide  itself  by  the  spirit 
and  ideals  of  a  truly  religious  society.  It 
can  succeed  only  as  all  of  its  members  con- 
sciously and  enthusiastically  enter  into 
that  endeavor.  Three  things  are  con- 
tinually dramatized  in  every  church,  no 
matter  how  imperfectly :  the  vast  implica- 
tions of  our  life,  the  intimate  personal  feel- 
ing of  being  at  home,  and  the  alluring  hope 
of  a  better  future. 

The  greatness  of  man's  life  in  the  old 
drama  was  set  forth  in  the  very  fact  of  the 
condescension  of  heaven  to  take  note  of 
him.  In  the  new  he  is  accorded  a  real  part. 
A  mother  feels  herself  intrusted  with  a 
wonderful  share  in  the  life  of  the  world 
through  her  child.  She  is  constantly  hop- 


Its  New  Drama  123 

ing  to  nourish  and  train  him  so  that  he  may 
bless  mankind.  She  cannot  hide  from  her- 
self the  question  of  his  future  usefulness. 
If  he  could  measure  up  to  her  wishes  for 
him  he  would  bring  some  good  invention, 
make  some  discovery,  accomplish  some  dis- 
tinguished service.  In  caring  for  him  she 
thinks  of  herself  as  performing  a  task  for 
thousands  who  are  to  be  helped  by  him. 
As  she  herself  is  the  inheritor  of  the  affec- 
tion and  yearning  watchfulness  of  count- 
less ancestors,  so  in  turn  she  is  to  transmit 
the  stream  of  life  through  him  to  countless 
other  human  beings.  Religion  calls  atten- 
tion to  these  great  distances  and  to  these 
wonderful  implications  in  the  plot  of  every 
human  life.  Even  a  sparrow  is  upheld  by 
the  whole  power  of  the  universe,  and  man 
is  of  more  value  than  many  sparrows.  He 
is  therefore  called  upon  to  live,  not  for  the 
passing  hour,  but  for  all  that  relates  to  it 
and  for  all  that  grows  out  of  it.  In  this 
consists  man's  true  nobility:  He  views 
himself  more  truly  as  the  child  of  the  ages 
than  as  the  grass  of  the  field.  We  are 


124  The  New  Orthodoxy 

gaining  more  adequate  means  of  estimat- 
ing human  influence  and  responsibility. 
Ibsen's  Ghosts  is  an  artistic  expression  of 
this  fact.  The  great  tables  of  the  statistics 
of  heredity  tell  the  same  story.  It  was 
recognized  by  George  Eliot  as  "the  sweet 
presence  of  a  good  diffused,  and  in  diffusion 
ever  more  intense!" 

The  religious  representation  of  life  also 
emphasizes  the  sense  of  being  at  home  in 
the  world  and  of  extending  a  yearning  love 
to  all  individuals.  The  good  shepherd 
goes  in  search  of  the  one  lost  sheep.  The 
redemptive  sympathy  of  modern  society 
reaches  out  toward  the  poor,  the  lonely, 
and  the  separated  souls.  Religion  might 
well  dramatize  the  work  of  social  settle- 
ments, of  public  schools,  of  boards  of 
health  and  morals.  The  necessity  of  co- 
operation has  never  been  brought  home 
to  men  in  the  history  of  the  world  before 
as  at  the  present  time.  Society  insists 
upon  closer  supervision  of  private  affairs, 
of  individual  property,  and  of  business. 
In  the  emergency  which  the  war  has  ere- 


Its  New  Drama  125 

ated  a  degree  of  consolidation  and  unifica- 
tion has  been  attained  which  would  have 
required  decades  or  centuries  to  achieve 
otherwise. 

No  man  liveth  unto  himself  now.  That 
has  suddenly  come  to  be  far  more  than  a 
statement  of  pious  sentiment.  It  is  felt  to 
be  the  very  condition  and  necessity  of  any 
kind  of  existence.  This  dependence  of  the 
individual  upon  his  group  and  his  partici- 
pation in  its  practical  and  ideal  life  is  one 
of  the  deepest  and  most  vital  facts  of  the 
religious  life.  The  church  has  need  to  ex- 
tend this  principle  in  more  vivid  and  com- 
manding ways  to  individuals  not  included 
at  present  in  the  immediate  circle  of  the 
church.  It  becomes  true  of  the  great  souls 
of  the  past  too.  They  also  co-operate  with 
us.  By  their  writings  and  their  deeds  they 
participate  in  our  deliberation  and  in  our 
estimate  of  the  value  and  sanctity  of  our 
religious  ideals.  They  suffer  and  toil  with 
us,  and  their  words  of  courage  and  com- 
fort are  like  counsels  of  our  dearest 
friends. 


126  The  New  Orthodoxy 

Not  only  does  the  church  seek  to  keep 
alive  in  its  members  the  sense  of  the  dignity 
of  human  life  and  of  personal  worth,  but  it 
also  dramatizes  the  hopes  which  are  cher- 
ished and  toward  whose  fulfilment  every 
energy  is  dedicated.  These  hopes  revive 
in  the  company  of  those  who  seek  them  and 
contemplate  them.  In  the  older  hymns 
the  sentiment  was,  "I'm  but  a  stranger 
here;  heaven  is  my  home."  In  the  newer 
hymns  we  sing,  "We  are  builders  of  that 
city." 

Religious  souls  have  been  variously  rep- 
resented in  art  as  in  life.  They  have  been 
shown  as  solitary  pilgrims  in  their  search 
for  God  and  peace  of  soul.  They  have 
been  portrayed  as  "a  noble  army,  men  and 
boys,  the  matron  and  the  maid,  who 
climbed  the  steep  ascent  of  heaven,  thro' 
peril,  toil  and  pain."  But  there  is  some- 
thing still  more  appealing  in  the  dream  of 
them  as  builders  of  a  beautiful  city. 

The  city  is  becoming  more  impressive  as 
a  symbol  of  the  enlarging  spiritual  life 
of  man.  It  affords  opportunity  for  com- 


Its  New  Drama  127 

panionship,  for  intelligent  concerted  action, 
for  effective  brotherhood,  and  for  means  for 
growth.  Man  can  see  in  the  city  the  fruits 
of  his  labors  and  the  consequences  of  his 
mistakes.  He  is  thereby  brought  to  terms 
with  his  own  conduct  and  furnished  in- 
centives for  indefinite  improvement.  No 
longer  solitary  or  ascetic,  militant  or 
visionary,  the  Christian  sees  rising  about 
him  "the  glorious  golden  city."  In.  the 
words  of  Felix  Adler's  beautiful  hymn: 

We  are  builders  of  that  city; 

All  our  joys  and  all  our  groans 
Help  to  rear  its  shining  ramparts; 

All  our  lives  are  building-stones: 
Whether  humble  or  exalted, 

All  are  called  to  task  divine; 
All  must  aid  alike  to  carry 

Forward  our  sublime  design. 

And  the  work  that  we  have  builded 

Oft  with  bleeding  hands  and  tears, 
And  in  error  and  in  anguish, 

Will  not  perish  with  our  years: 
It  will  last  and  shine  transfigured 

In  the  final  reign  of  Right; 
It  will  merge  into  the  splendors 

Of  the  City  of  the  Light. 


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